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June 1955 

Honorary Editor 
Miss Gillard 

Victoria Nesbitt 

Literary Editor 
Ann Ramsay 

School Year Editor 
Rae MacCulloch 

Advertising Editor 
Diana Daniels 

Art Editor 
Nancy Millen 

Sports Editor 
Jill Woods 

Photography Editor 
Margot Warier 

Form Representatives 

Matrie: Helen Tucker 

VI A: Susan Kilgour y\ B: Frances Harley 

V A: Cynthia Bailey V B: Mary Warren' 

Juniors: Ruth Beverley 

Staff Advisers 
Miss Morris Miss MacLennan 

Miss Hughes Miss Wood 



This is a jubilee year at King's Hall — a time for looking backwards, with pride and gratitude because 
our beloved Miss Adelaide Gillard this year completes twenty-five years as our Head-Mistress. On the occa- 
sion of such an anniversary it is natural to look back and to review the events, world wide and local, which 
have taken place. We need not tell our readers of the historic changes, world-shattering wars, inventions 
and progress — these things are known. Nor can we give a detailed account of the activities at the school- 
there is not the space. What we want to do is to pay tribute to a great lady, to try to express the admiration, 
the gratitude of a multitude of girls who have had the privilege of Miss Gillard's guidance during this quar- 
ter century. Those who are now mothers, those who have just left, those who were new this year, those who 
are graduating this year — we all have one thing in common — an important thing — we have had Miss Gillard 
to influence us, to teach us, sometimes to scold us, but above all to inspire us. 

Through all these years of tumult and chaos in the world in this quiet countryside of Oompton, our 
dear Miss Gillard has steadfastly continued to instil in us the priceless and eternal truths — Faith in God, 
compassion, consideration for others, honour, integrity, the awareness of responsibility and duty, and the 
love of beauty and simple things. These things cannot be learned from a text book. 

One wonders how many of us have ever paused to consider from her point of view, what all this has 
meant to Miss Gillard ? Has it been fun, has she enjoyed it ? Has it been a heavy burden, a thankless task ? 
For the answer one has only to look at Miss Gillard. We see a loving person, serene and smiling. How can 
she do it, we ask ourselves, knowing as we do, what trials she is subjected to! This must be a dedicated person, 
someone who loves the challenge of our waywardness, our imperfections. She must recognize her great gift 
for molding, guiding, comforting. 

I am sure I express the feelings of twenty-five years of Compton girls when I say, We salute you, Miss 
Gillard, and God Bless you! 


A famous humorist once said, "When I was sixteen I considered my parents narrow-minded idiots, but 
when I was twenty-six I was amazed at how much the old fools had learned in ten years!" 

This witty comment was brought to mind when a popular periodical recently published an article en- 
titled "Things I Wish My Parents Wouldn't Do." Actually when the situation is analyzed, it appears that 
most teenagers and most parents have their disagreements on the same handful of subjects. 

These causes of friction almost invariably include such items as the following: 

Lipstick — at what age, how much, and on what occasions ? 

Highheels — again at what age, and how high ? 

Clothes — what is the compromise between eight crinolines for breakfast and what Mother refers to as 
"dressing sensibly"? 

Curfews — "Where are you going, with whom, how are you getting home, and at what time?" 

Health — "Don't forget your vitamins; it is time for bed; don't catch cold; have milk instead of coffee." 

We, I speak for the teenagers, know that we frequently ask ourselves in one way or another, "Are parents 
people ?" It is rather disconcerting to realize that they, the parents, are undoubtedly asking the same ques- 
tion in reverse! Who's right? Before going any further, let us hasten to assert that we all love our parents 
and we know they love us. But they so often don't understand! Were they never young ? That devastating- 
opening "In our day"! We like to think that in their day life was so simple and rules so strict that there was 
no problem. We don't care to be told that as teens they had the very same problems, and that they are try- 
ing to help us avoid their mistakes. This simply doesn't ring a bell! What a pity, we say, parents are not 
modern, in time with the times, contemporary! They are kind and dear and we are extremely fond of them, 
but they have a lot to learn ! 

Oh, by the way, in the same publication which printed the splendid article about parents' mistakes, 
there was an editorial entitled "Obey — or Pay". Reluctantly I found myself reading the thing. It men- 
tioned such angles as "You've got to obey the laws of health or pay for it physically. You've got to sit on 
a hot temper or take the consequences. You've got to control extravagances, or you'll go broke. If you never 
learn the habit of obedience, you grow up to be a slave to the worst tyrant of all — yourself." 

Well, we think there may be something in all this, but meanwhile parents really should take a course 
in psychology — or should we ? 



Jfflisis; (gillarb'S letter 

King's Hall, 
14th April, 1955 
Dear Girls: 

As there seems to be so much discontent in the world to-day, in spite of the 
fact that there are supposed to be more opportunities for enjoyment, it might 
be worth-while to try to decide what makes people happy. One eminent British 
Statesman wrote, "This seems to be a pleasure-seeking age. Whether it be a 
pleasure-seeking age or not, I doubt whether it is a pleasure-finding age." 

That same British Statesman declared that there are four things which arc 
essential to happiness. The first, "Some moral standard by which to guide our 
actions." Unless you have good, firm personal standards and live by them you 
cannot be truly happy. You have to live with yourself, and to be happy with 
yourself you must be able to respect yourself. The maladjusted people are those 
who have no worth-while standards to live up to. 

The second, "Some satisfactory home-life in the form of good relations with 
family or friends." Unless success and happiness can be shared with family or 
friends they have no real meaning. You cannot enjoy anything fully unless you 
share it with others: happiness means sharing. 

The third, "Some form of work which justifies our existence to our own 
country and makes us good citizens." The discontented people of this world are 
those with no definite occupation or objective-those who live solely for pleasure. 
Busy people are happy people. The busiest people always manage to find time 
to work for others. It is a sad fact that people with plenty of time rarely use it 
for the public good. Give a job to a busy person and it will be done. The most 
lasting and satisfying happiness comes from doing for others. 

The fourth, "Some degree of leisure and the use of it in some way that makes 
us happy." A well-balanced life requires not only work, but recreation. With 
the shorter work-week time for recreation is no longer the prerogative of what 
used to be termed, "the leisured class". Unless this extra time is used wisely it 
can lead to discontent and unhappiness. Everyone needs to develop some interest 
or hobby which will give him pleasure and develop his talents. All four of the 
above are equally important. Failure to fulfil any one will spoil the whole. 

Many tributes have been paid to Sir Winston Churchill on his retirement. 
Even his bitterest political opponents agree that he is the "Man of the Century". 
Circumstances enabled him to make use of his talents, but does not the real 
secret of his greatness lie in his original and constructive use of leisure time, in 
work that satisfied his ambition and his interest in the welfare of others, in his 
happy, normal family-life, and in his adherence to high, moral standards? 

Yours affectionately, 



g>albe Jfflagtetra 

Miss Gillard and King's Hull are often in the 
minds of the girls who, in the past twenty-five 
years, have felt the warmth of her interest and, 
when need arose, the lash of her tongue recalling 
the wanderer to the path of duty. From letters 
received by the Editor of "Per Annos" the follow- 
ing quotations are a tribute both to Miss Gillard 
as a friend and to the influence she has had on all 
who know her: 

"What a truly satisfying feeling it must be to 
look back on twenty-five years, and know that 
they have been spent in such a worthwhile way. 
There are few that have this privilege. 

"All your girls carry with them memories of a 
school and most especially of a Head Mistress that 
probably did more to shape their future than any 
other single factor. 

"Your Old Girls, many of whom are now married 
with children of their own, face many of the prob- 
lems that you must have faced with us. 

"Well remembered are the treasured moments, 
such as when all in dressing-gowns and wrapped in 
eiderdowns, huddled in the lounge, you'd read us 
Christmas stories, and later we'd sing carols. 

"The many and all inspiring lectures on Satur- 
day morning — sage words of sound advice follow- 
ing a rather bitter ordeal of order marks. 

"Our experiences probably aren't different from 
those experienced by King's Hull girls, past and 
present, but this only helps to strengthen the bonds 
between generations of Compton Old Girls. If is 
an unspoken truth that their values are our values; 
their code of ethics, our code of ethics; thus making 
the feeling that of mutual understanding. 

"Our trips to see you at school are always an 
event for us, and we never cease to be amazed by 
the fact that you not only remember us, but know 
what we're doing, or are keenly interested in find- 
ing out." 

"At school we knew the world outside as a world 
at war. You taught us then, Miss Gillard, the stand- 
ards to maintain. We are thankful to have had 

these lessons, and happy to know that the girls at 
King's Hall receive them still." 

"We recall vividly your Closing Day words point- 
ing out our responsibility to maintain the peace 
which our brothers and sisters had fought to win 
for us. 

"From England, Italy, U.S.A., Canada, or wher- 
ever the Old Girls may be, we join to congratulate 
you, Miss Gillard, on the wonderful success you 
have had in helping all of us in our lives." 

"Whatever the occupation, I feel each one of us 
from time to time fondly thinks back upon those 
words of advice and that strong leadership that 
moulded us for these post-war years. 

"Again we look back fondly to our freedom and 
realize how fortunate we were to benefit from 
'Gilly's faultless guidance'." 

"No one student can forget your understanding 
and love for all of us, which you always managed 
to impart." 

"Those were the days when a victory over Stan- 
stead was a world-shaking event, with Miss Gillard 
waiting at the top of the stairs to welcome back 
the conquering heroes, or soothe the ruffled feathers 
of the losers. 

"For a class who had spent as much time during 
the previous four, five, and even six years planning 
for that wonderous day when we would leave our 
school days behind us, we were certainly a sorry 
looking group as we stood in the front hall waiting 
for the station taxi. No one would make the first 
move to say good-bye to Miss Gillard. Too many 
happy memories crowded each of our minds and 

"Though we were a divided class in school hours, 
we were united then, as we are today, in hoping 
that King's Hall girls will be fortunate enough to 
have Miss Gillard with them for yet another twenty- 
five years." 

"A Toast to Miss Gillard." 

K. H. C. O. G. A.— 1930— 1955. 


?|eafci (girls 

J Jh 


Joanne Dick — "Jo" 1952-55 

Arnprior, Ontario. 

"Man is creation's best achievement 
But who says so? Man." 

Favourite Expression: — "That was a gruelling experience." 

Pastime: — Singing "Rise and Shine" at the crack of dawn. 

Prototype: — Dead-Eye Dick 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Volleyball, House; Badminton; 
Current Events; Choir; Glee Club; Library Committee; 
Literature Club; Dramatics; Matric. Entertainment Com- 
mittee; Form Captain 1953. 

Wendy Johnston — "Johnst" Rideau 

Rosemere, P.Q. 1952-55 

"Opportunity is often lost through deliberation" 

Favourite Expression: — Don't be lippy! 

Pastime: — Driving corvettes around Delray Beach. 

Prototype: — Carol Channing (Another reason why gentlemen 

prefer blondes). 
Activities: — Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball, 

House; Badminton; Current Events; Choir; Glee Club; 

Literature Club; Dramatics; Form Captain 1954. 

$eab (girl's! Report 

1955 is especially notable as Miss Gillard's 
twenty-fifth anniversary as Principal of King's 
Hall. Although at times this year we disappointed 
her by getting too many order marks and so forth, 
yet I feel that on the whole each girl has tried her 
best to uphold the honour of the School and the 
standards of her House. 

The House totals have been low as compared to 
previous years but competition has been extremely 
keen and the loyalty and support the girls have 
given to their respective Houses has allowed no 
one House to remain on top for any length of time. 

The competition for the Sports Shield has been 
acute, especially between Montcalm and Rideau, 
although MacDonald makes a valiant effort. Inter- 
school sports also have been great fun. 

As you will see farther on in the Magazine we 
have been well entertained with concerts and plays, 
some plays put on here by the various Forms and 
some by B.C.S. and U.B.C. Unfortunately our 
social life during the second term was non-existent 
because of measles at B.C.S. However, the formal 
was a great success as was the tea dance at Bishop's 
on Thanksgiving Monday. 

Although I wasn't present for the Red Cross 
supper I heard that the knitting and sewing done 
by the girls were wonderful and I know that the 
Red Cross would be "thrilled" with the bale. 

On behalf of the student body I should like to 
thank Miss Gillard and the Staff for helping us 
with our many problems and for taking such a 
great interest in us. The Prefects and I should like, 
also, to thank each individual girl for being so co- 
operative and helpful and for showing respect for 
our position. 

I wish the best of luck to the Head Girl of 1956-57 
and hope that she will be every bit as proud as I am 
of being your Head Girl (even if I did end up with 
a bang!) 

Joanne Dick 

The whole school wishes to pay its tribute of 
affection and admiration to Joanne Dick, our Head 

I am deeply honoured to be the one chosen to 
carry out her duties during her absence — take her 
place, I cannot do. 

Wendy Johnston 



Judith St. George — "Saint" Head df Macdonald 

Montreal, P.Q. 1948-55 

"The path of true love never did run smooth." 

Favourite Expression: — "I'll clear the first course, but not the second." 

Pastime: — Tearing stamps off airmail letters! ! ! 

Prototype : — Pogo. 

Activities: — Soccer, House; Basketball, House; Ballet; Current Events; 
Choir; Crucifer, 1954-55; Head Library Committee, 1953-54; Lit- 
erature Club; Magazine Representative, VI A; Dramatics; Form 
Captain 1949 and 53. 

Susan Cuthbertson — "Cuthy" Prefect on Macdonald 

Town of Mount Royal, P.Q. ' 1949-55 

"Blushing is the colour of virtue." 
Ambition: — To own one hundred crinolines. 
Probable Destination: — Owning a starch factory. 
Prototype: — The naught y lady of Shady Lane. 
Activities: — Soccer, School; Volleyball, House; Basketball, House; 

Ballet; Current Events; Choir; Glee Club; Literature Club; 


Diane Smith — "Smidie" Head of Montcalm 

Toronto, Ontario. 1950-55 

"I'm as big for me as you are big for you." 

Pet Aversion: — Daddy-long-legs and his clan. 

Pastime: — Bubble-baths and marshmallows. 

Prototype : — Ragdoll. 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball, House; 
Tennis, House; Badminton; Current Events; Choir; Glee Club; 
Library Committee; Literature Club; Dramatics; Magazine Rep- 
resentative, V B. 

Barbara Jane Newell— "B.J." Prefect on Montcalm 

Montreal, P.Q. 1951-55 

"Company, villainous company, hath been the spoil of me." 
Ambition: — Teaching or modelling. 
Probable Destination: — Model teacher. 
Prototype:— Jerry Lewis, 1952-53. 
Activities:— Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball, House: 

Ballet: Current Events; Choir; Glee Club; Library Committee; 

Literature Club; Dramatics; Matric. Entertainment Committee; 

Form Captain, 1!)52. 

Ann Rawungs— "Rawl" Head of Rideau 

Montreal, P.Q. 1948-55 

"Kvil to him who evil thinks." 
Pet Aversion:— People who keep asking where the French verb list is. 
1 astime:— Eating cold artichokes and black bread. 
Prototype :— T< immy Traddles. 
Activities:— Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball, House; 

lennis, House; Ballet; Current Events; Glee Club; Literature Club; 


Antonia Mitchell — "Ant" 
Massawippi, P.Q. 

"What fools these mortals be!" 
Favourite Expression : — "Excellent!" 
Pastime: — Reading novels in class. 
Prototype:— Bolwcavil. 

Activities:— Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball 
™ n ™ s; Current Events ;_Glee Club; Literature Club; 

Prefect on Rideau 

Aiatnc. Entertainment Committee; Bell Rimrer 
Captain, 1951, \54-'55; Sports Captain, 1949-53 ' 

Ski Team; 

1953-54; Form 


&esident Captains 

Deirdre Allan — "Diddy" 
Montreal, P.Q. 

"Laugh and the world laughs with you" 
Pastime: — Hiding in cupboards. 
Pet Aversion: — Red heads. 
Prototype : — Angela Menace. 
Activities: — Soccer, House; Basketball, House; Volleyball, 

Badminton; Ballet; Current Events; Glee Club; Matric. 

tainment Committee; Literature Club; Dramatics. 



Nancy Palmer — "Nan" Rideau 

Donnacona, P.Q. 1951-55 

"Oh bed, bed, bed, delicious bed 
That heaven on earth to the weary head" 
Pet Aversion: — Taking reporting at 7.00 o'clock in the morning. 
Pastime: — Playing golf. 
Prototype: — Baby Ben. 

Activities: — Soccer, House; Volleyball, House; Current Events; Glee 
Club; Matric. Entertainment Committee — Costumes. 

Sports Captain 

Jill Woods — "Pug" 
Ottawa, Ontario. 


Those who give sunshine to the lives of others 
cannot help having some themselves." 
Ambition: — To own a dogs' beauty parlour. 
Probable Destination: — Owning one that's the cat's meow. 
Prototype : — Grundoon. 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball, House; 
Tennis, House; Badminton; Current Events; Glee Club; Literature 
Club; Dramatics; Magazine Representative, V A, VI B; Magazine 
Committee 1955; Form Captain 1947-49, '53-'54. 

Jform Captains 



Victoria Nesbitt 

Westmount, P.Q. 

"For Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do" 

Favourite Pastime: — Trying to keep a straight face. 

Pet Aversion: — Worms and frogs in dissecting class Friday p.m. 

Prototype: — Deadly Angel. 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Basketball, House; Volleyball, House; 
Ski Team; Tennis, House; Badminton; Current Events; Choir; Glee 
Club; Literature Club; Dramatics; Matric. Entertainment — Di- 
rector; Magazine Editor; Form Captain 1954-55. 

Nancy Millen — "Nance" Montcalm 

Montreal, P.Q. 1950-55 

"Shall I work or shall I draw?" 

Pastime: — Eating pablum and cake mixes. 

Pet Aversion: — Staff who don't give her six helpings of ice cream. 
Prototype: — The Out-House Mouse. 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Volleyball, House; Current Events; Glee 
Club; Literature Club; Dramatics; Magazine Committee; Ballet. 

tl I fid-. 

The news of Joanne Dick's accident during the 
Easter holidays cast a gloom over the whole school. 
It was with deep regret that we learned that she 
would be unable to return to school and complete 
her year as Head Girl. We are happy to be able to 
report that she is well on the way to complete re- 
covery and is very much with us in spirit. The very 
best wishes of the school go to Joanne — we miss 


Joanne's absence necessitated several 
in the Prefect Body. Wendy Johnston was ap- 
pointed Head Girl; Ann Rawlings became Head 
of Rideau and Tony Mitchell was made Prefect on 
Rideau. This left a vacancy in the Science Matric. 
and Nancy Milieu was elected Form Captain to 
replace Tony. All these girls are working hard in 
their new positions and are maintaining the high 
standards set by their predecessors. 




Carolyn Chadwick — "Chad" Montcalm 

Old Lyme, Connecticut. 1951-55 

"Eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die" 
Favourite Expression: — "Thanks pal, I'll remember you in my will." 
Pastime: — Reading gory war novels. 
Prototype: — The Hollow Leg. 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Basketball, House; Volleyball, House; 
Current Events; Glee Club; Literature Club. 

Barbara Cope— -"Copesy" Macdonald 

Hampstead, P.Q. 1953-55 

"Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent 
Favourite Expression: — "Don't worry; I'll grow" 
Pet Aversion: — Staff who use more than two-syllable words. 
Prototype: — A bug in a rug. 

Activities:— Soccer, School; Basketball, School; Volleyball, House; 
Current Events; Badminton; Glee Club; Literature Club; Dra- 

Diana Daniels — "Dan" Rideau 

Montreal, P.Q. 1951-55 

"A little nonesense now and then 
Is relished by the wisest men" 
Favourite Expression:— "A-ha! The plot thickens!" 
Pet Aversion:— People who know only one line of a song 
Prototype:— Matric. Problem Child. ' 

Activities:— Soccer, House; Volleyball, House; Current Events- Glee 
Club; Literature Club; Ballet; Dramatics; Magazine Committee. 

Daphne Dawe Montcalm 

Cupids, Newfoundland. 1953-55 

"The blush is beautiful, but sometimes inconvenient" 
Ambition:— To get a Bachelor of Arts degree. 
Probable Destination:— Getting married in second year 
Prototype:— Fearless Fosdick. 

Activities:— Soccer, House; Volleyball, House; Current Events; Glee 
Club; Library Committee; Literature Club. 

RAE MacCuXLOCH tvt i 

r,.,ii,....i m a x- Montcalm 

Bedford, Nova Scotia 1950-55 

"Surely we are nearest heaven by the sea" 
Ambition: -To have seven children 
Probable Destination:— Cheaper by the dozen! 
1 rototype: — Veronica Lake. 

A °FvpS. : 7w Cel ) - . H ° ?? V Volteyball, House ; Badminton ; Current 

Colrumttee 1 !'^-^ ^ UUinUlTC Club ' Dramat ^ Magazine 

Jean Millward— "Millie" at j u 

Kingston, Ontario. 1952-^55 

"Many shall run to and fro and knowledge shall be increased." 
Ambition:— U.B.C., Vanvouver 
Probable Destination :-U. B.C., Lennoxville. 
Prototype:— Dennis the Menace 

Activities:— Soccer, House; Basketball, School- Volleyball House- 
Badminton; Current Events; Glee Club; Literature Club; DramE 




Mary Louise Mueller — "Mule" Montcalm 

Shawinigan Falls, P.Q. 1952-55 

"Love is blind" — "Where are my glasses?" 
Ambition: — Lab Technician. 
Probable Destination: — Lab guinea pig. 
Prototype: — Loony Binnist. 

Activities: — Soccer, House; Basketball, House; Volleyball, House; 
Current Events; Glee Club; Literature Club; Dramatics. 

Ann Ramsay Montcalm 

New York, N.Y. 1953-55 

"Give me but one hour of Scotland." 

Favourite Expression: — "Who's got the Matric mail?" 

Pet Aversion: — Hydrogen. 

Prototype: — Accordian Joe. 

Activities: — Soccer, House; Volleyball, House; Current Events; Glee 

Club; Head Library Committee; Literature Club; Dramatics; 

Magazine Committee; Literary Editor. 

Helen Tucker Rideau 

Westmount, P.Q. 1953-55 

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't." 

Favourite Expression: — "Stop your miserable nausiatin' trottin' 


Pet Aversion: — The rising bell. 

Prototype: — Friar Tuck. 

Activities: — Soccer, School; Volleyball, House; Badminton; Tennis, 
House; Current Events; Choir; Glee Club; Literature Club; Dra- 
matics; Magazine Committee; Sports Captain, 1954. 

Margot Watier Macdonald 

Shawinigan Falls, P.Q. 1952-55 

"Science is organized knowledge" 
Favourite Expression: — "Golly!" 

Pet Aversion: — Room-mates who lock her out at 10.30 at night. 
Prototype: — Mad Scientist- 
Activities: — Soccer, House; Basketball, House; Volleyball, House; 
Current Events; Literature Club; Dramatics; Matric. Entertainment- 
Committee — Costumes; Magazine Committee. 

Linda Wilson Montcalm 

Westmount, P.Q. 1952-55 

"History is only a confused heap of facts." 
Favourite Expression: — "Yes, I was thinking that too." 
Pastime: — Crossing dates off the calendar. 
Prototype: — A Koala Bear. 

Activities: — Soccer, House; Volleyball House; Basketball, House; 
Current Events; Glee Club. 

In St. James' Church, which is so much a part 
of the life at King's Hall, a window was dedicated 
"To the Glory of God and in memory of Suzanne 
MacPherson of St. John's Newfoundland 1938- 
1953. A pupil of King's Hall." 

The beautiful stained glass window, given by 

Mr. and Mrs. MacPherson, portrays the beloved 
scene of Christ, as a child, among the scribes in 
the temple. Each Sunday as we enter the church, 
the sun shining through the lovely colours of the 
window, will long keep bright the memory of one 
so closely associated with us here. 



fflattit Jform Report 


"Hell is empty, all the devils are here." 

Favourite Expression:— Want to hear something 
funny ? 

Ambition: — Matries. of '55. 

Probable Destination:— Matries. of '56. 

Pet Aversion: — Racing the clock. 

Prototype : — St. Trinian's. 

Activities: — Matric. Entertainment, Glee Club, 
Current Events, Soccer, Skiing, Basketball, Bad- 
minton, Tennis. 
This Form report is written with apologies to 

Miss Gillard's vocabulary which she has tried to 

convey to us. 

At least we tried! 

Miss Morris — does her best to teach us protocol 

(rides of etiquette for the diplomatic corps.) 
Miss Wallace — our own originator of the terse 

Diddy Allan — the egregious (absurd behavior) of 

this one earns her the nick-name, "Angela the 

Carol Chadwick — Philospher (one who keeps 

calm and courageous in misfortune) — as a matter 

of fact, this doesn't apply to Carol at all! 
Barbara Cope — what would she do without her 

dictionaries to elucidate (throw light upon) 

her notes ? 
Sue Cuthbertson — the Banshee's wail portends 

ominous warnings to those who take her bath. 
Di Daniels — Ingenious (clever at contriving) 

practical jokes, which are accompanied by an 

evil chuckle. 

Daphne Dawe — Newfiephile (lover of Newfound- 
land from Cupid's Bay.) Incidently, this word is 
derived ( ?) from Anglophile. 

Jo Dick — Philanthropist (lover of mankind) 
and the feeling of "Ourkind" is mutual. 

Wendy Johnston — Johnst's indomitable spirit 
has made her top dog. 

Rae MacCulloch — We all enjoy her gratuitous 

(free of charge) concerts on Sunday afternoons 
and other illegal times! 
Nancy Millen— If it wasn't for ice-cream, Nancy 

would be annihilated (reduced to nothing) 
Jean Millward — To use a cliche, 

"In school quiet and demure, 
But outside we're not quite sure!" 

Tonia Mitchell — Approaching blemish — her new 



Mary Louise Meuller — She is obdurate (stubborn) 
about being called "Mule". 

Vicky Nesbitt — expedited (assisted the progress 
of) the Matric Entertainment in her role of di- 

B. J. Newell — She is gregarious (fond of company) 
— especially in the "Moulin" 

Nancy Palmer — Philanthropist (Benefits man- 
kind by using wealth). Thanks to her, our Piggy 
Prefects have been well fed all year. 

Ann Ramsay — Ann is implaccable (unable to be 
appeased or satisfied) when it comes to practising 
her accordian. For verification ask Miss Morris! 

Ann Rawlings — Anne is indicted (accused in a 
court of law) by Vicky for continually leaving 
her desk a mess. 

Di Smith — her histrionic (pertaining to the the- 
atre) talent will probably be used singing com- 
mercials for the C.B.C. next year. 

Judy St. George — she is always being repri- 
manded by B.J. for forgetting to remind her not 
to forget. 

Helen Tucker — she is importunate (troublesomely 
urgent) in getting Judy to help her with the form 

Margo Watier— Philatelist (lover of stamps)— 
donations gratefully received at 1650 George 
St., Shawinigan Falls, P.Q. 

Linda Wilson— plays the Happy Wanderer in her 
class perigrinations (wanderings). 

Jill Woods— Malevolent to work in all respects. 
Helen Tucker and Judy St. George 
Mairic Cartoons by Nancy Millen. 



g>c!jool Calendar 

School re-opened Sept. 14 

Junior Red Cross Speaker Sept. 22 

Thanksgiving Week-end Oct. 9-11 

Tea Dance at Bishop's Oct. 11 

Horse Show in Sherbrooke Oct. 1G 

Soccer Game with Old Girls Oct. 17 

Readings— Mrs. McKellar Oct. 17 

Matric Entertainment Oct. 23 

Opening of New Form room Oct. 27 

Prefects Appointed Oct. 28 

Hallowe'en Party Oct. 30 

Soccer Game with Bishop's Nov. 3 

Soccer Game — Stanstead — K.H.C Nov. 6 

Tea Dance at Bishop's Nov. 6 

Soccer Game— B.C. S. Prep Nov. 8 

Soccer Game at Stanstead Nov. 11 

The Formal Nov. 13 

Soccer Game — Bishop's First Football 

Team Nov. 12 

B.C.S. Play "Middlewatch" Dec. 2 

Miss Gillard's Birthday Party Dec. 5 

Christmas Exams Dec. 4-1 1 

Junior Nativity Play and Carol Service . . . Dec. 12 

Christmas Holiday Dec. 16 — Jan. 11 

Public Speaking— Prep Hall Jan. 30 

Semi-Final Public Speaking Contest 

in Sherbrooke Feb. 4 

"Macbeth" at U.B.C Feb. 18 

V A Operetta Mar. 6 

Recital — Joan Glithero Mar. 15 

Easter Exams March 1 7-26 

Swimming Meet Mar. 23 

Easter Holidays March 29— April 13 

Recital— Miss Shalir April 17 

Talk on Nursing April 20 

Basketball Game at Stanstead April 20 

Dress Rehearsal of "Michael" April 22 

"Michael" Drama Festival Sherbrooke . April 23 

Concert by Miss Macdonald May 1 

Entertainment by the "Davies of 

Canada" May 2 

Basketball Match with Stanstead at 

K.H.C May 5 

Choir in "R.S.C.M." Festival Evensong 

St. Peter's Church, Sherbrooke May 7 

"La Malade Imaginaire" at Sherbrooke 

University May 12 

Confirmation May 14 

VI A Play "Grand Cham's Diamond". . .May 19 

Closing Church Service June 5 

Closing June 6 




As the evening of December 5th approached, 
excitement and pleasure showed on all faces, for 
this was the night of Miss Gillard's birthday supper 
— one day after the real birthday. Miss Gillard's 
birthday is always a very special occasion, but 
when we are also celebrating her twenty-fifth anni- 
versary at King's Hall the occasion is even more 
than "very special". 

The party took place around the swimming pool, 
the walls of which were decorated with the "Moulin 
Rouge" posters so effective at the Formal. The 
soft glow of candles and coloured lights was re- 
flected in the pool, whose edges were lined with 
plants and flowers, while music filled the air. The 
drab room was transformed into a blend of Paris 
Cafe and lake-shore garden. 

The Staff sat on either side of Miss Gillard at the 
head table, looking down the pool, while some girls 
found seats at the tables along the sides. The ma- 
jority, however, were accommodated on the floor. 
No matter where one sat the jovial spirits and the 
excellent food were the same. A hush fell over us 
all as a magnificent cake was brought in. We had 
all seen the cake the night before, but none of us 
had believed that we were the lucky people des- 
tined to share it. As Miss Gillard made the first cut 
the silence was broken only by the repeated click- 
ing of cameras, but in a moment "Happy Birthday 
to You" rang out, followed by an ovation it would 
be hard to equal. 

Although the actual festivities were soon over, 
the memory of them will remain stamped in each 
mind indelibly. 

Terry Abbott, VI A 


Each winter afternoon, if you should bide 

A while beside the rink, you'd surely see 

The skaters, gaily singing, skim and glide, 

To waltzes, marches, swingy melodies! 

On Sunday evenings, and at rest hour too, 

The music sets a restful, quiet mood; 

A "Thank you" for those lovely afternoons, 

And Christmas records, and the Christmas tree. 

A "Thank you" too for parties— beside the pool 

By glowing candlelight, and in the garden — 

A "Thank you" for all this, from us who say 

"To you we raise a cheer, dear Mrs. Aitken!" 


In the second term we were lucky enough to have 
Joan Glithero come and play for us. Joan is very 
near our own age and plays the way we all have 
dreamed of doing. On the afternoon of her arrival 
she highly entertained us with popular music, and 
in the evening put on a marvellous performance. 
In the short time that she was here Joan won the 
hearts of the whole school and we all wish her back 
again very soon. Thank you ever so much for com- 
ing, Joan! 

Just after the Easter Exams, several of the girls 
put on a piano recital for us. Because of the exams, 
the girls had had little time to practise, but in 
spite of this, their performance was of a very high 
standard and immensely enjoyed by all. Thank 
you very much and may you all turn into prominent 
pianists ! 

On April 17th we had the great pleasure and 
honour of hearing a piano recital by Miss Shula- 
mith Shafir. Her selections were chosen from Beeth- 
oven, Scarlatti, Chopin, Debussy and Schubert. 
We deeply appreciate Miss Shafir's expressive play- 
ing as it made the pieces selected mean so much 
more to us. We hope for another visit soon. 

This term our own Miss Anna Macdonald again 
gave us one of her outstanding piano recitals. Her 
selection of music was varied and most enjoyable. 
We can well imagine how much time and thought 
it must have taken to prepare such a programme. 
The atmosphere created by her music was added 
to by the beautiful nineteenth century gown that 
she wore. There are very few concerts we have en- 
joyed so much. We salute you, Miss Macdonald, for 
a brilliant performance! 

Ann Rawlings, Matric. 


During the course of the past year the musical 
talents of King's Hall have been under the able 
supervision of Miss Macdonald, our choir mistress, 
and Miss Hewson, our Glee Club director. 

For the Christmas concert season the choir had 
prepared special anthems for us, and we also en- 
joyed French and English carols sung by the Forms 
and the Staff. 



In the second term the Matric. Glee Club sang 
"Ye Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon" for us and 
the VI A Glee Club rendered selections from the 
"Nutcracker Suite". 

The King's Hall church choir has been invited 
to sing at a Festival Evensong on May 7th, at St. 
Peter's Church in Sherbrooke. They will sing a 
three-part unaccompanied anthem and will also 
sing selections with the combined choirs. 

All of us sincerly thank Miss Macdonald and 
Miss Hewson for their enthusiastic direction of our 
musical endeavours. 

Susanne Schneider, VI A 


The school year of 1954-55 provided us with 
several delightful and entertaining plays and oper- 
ettas. A great interest in dramatics was shown by 
everyone and the results were really wonderful! 

In the first term the Juniors gave a beautiful 
interpretation of the Nativity story. Their por- 
trayal of the characters was convincing and thor- 
oughly enjoyable. The singing especially delighted 
the audience, the lovely carols creating an atmos- 
phere full of the Christmas spirit. We are greatly 
indebted to Miss Hewson for her untiring work in 
making this play such a success. We are also most 
grateful to Miss Macdonald for stepping in at the 
last moment to accompany the singers, Miss Hew- 
son being unfortunately ill the night of the perfor- 
mance. This is one version of the Nativity Story 
that I am sure will remain vividly in our minds 
for a long time to come. 

On the night of March 7 a delightful "Evening 
with Tchaikowsky" was presented. First of all the 

VI A Glee Club sang three songs from the "Nut- 
cracker Suite". Then the VA's put on a most artis- 
tic and whimsical operetta, "The Puppet Show". 
The story was about several puppets who were 
competing for the position of Queen of the Puppets. 
Beneath the light-hearted atmosphere of song and 
dance, however, there lay a deeper meaning. The 
clever portrayal of the various characters gave the 
audience glimpses of little foibles and traits of hu- 
man nature. We wish to congratulate all the VA's 
who took part in this excellent performance. Again 
our thanks are due to Miss Hewson for her charm- 
ing and artistic production. 

On April 22 we were movingly entertained by 
the VI A presentation of "Michael". This was an 
adaptation of the Tolstoy play "What Men Live 
By." This title, perhaps, gives one a clearer idea 
of the theme of the play. Nothing but the highest- 
praise can be given to the characters — Saundray 
Bogert, as the shoe-maker's wife, "Eve Smith, as 
the shoemaker," and Eve Hargraft as Michael. Ex- 
cellent performances were also given by Luciana 
Wagner, Shirley Eakin, and Jill Pacaud, with the 
support of three juniors, Marcia Pacaud, Virginia 
Echols, and Michele Robertson. We all wish to 
thank Miss MacLerman for directing the play, 
Miss Dumont for the costumes, and Susan Ward 
for stage assistance. "Michael" entered the Sher- 
brooke Drama Festival on April 23, and although 
it did not win, we are sure the audience there en- 
joyed it as much as we did. 

As this is going to press, another VI A play, 
"The Grand Cham's Diamond", is being rehearsed, 
as are a play by V A and three French plays by 
the juniors. We are all looking forward to seeing 
these performances in a few weeks as an interesting 
end to the year's dramatics. 

Barbara Kerr, VI A 


To all of you who groan when asked to bring in 
all overdue Library books, a thank you for return- 
ing them (even if under the threat of a tine)! Next 
year, however, I hope that you will be a little more 
prompt, even though we did collect a number of 
fines which will be used to buy new books. 

My thanks to the Library Committee for sticky 
fingers and gluey hands endured during those 
"mending bees", and also for checking your shelves 
all year. To next year's Committee Head I wish the 
best of luck, and hope that you enjoy your work 
as much as I have done. 

Ann Ramsay, Matric. 




"A Tale of Two Skools"! What hidden mysteries 
lurked behind this so seemingly innocent title ? 
For weeks we had waited with wonder and eager 
anticipation for the Matric. Entertainment, and 
now we were about to see it! 

The curtain rose. The scene was a railway station 
where students of "Harold's Happy Hall" and 
"Isabella's Inky Institution" were bidding their 
last farewells to their parents before they returned 
to school. Many amusing quips and a delightful 
song, "Make A Wish", gave us an idea of the en- 
joyment to follow. 

Next we were taken joyfully through the "Seven 
Ages of Woman" an exceptionally clever parody 
of Shakespeare's "Seven Ages of Man". The con- 
trast in the two gym. classes with the muscular 
girls' teacher and the timid boys' teacher made for 
a great deal of hilarity. Weird music and excellent 
lighting created the perfect atmosphere for the 
beautiful Incan Ballet. We laughed until our sides 
ached at the midnight feast in "Horatio's Hide- 
away". We were thrilled and amused by the J. 
Arthur Prank murder movie, "The Viper", which 
the schools attended. The tap-dancing in "Singing 
In The Rain" was extremely clever and was veiy 
artistically executed by gay dancers in colourful 
slickers. The tea dance attended by the two schools 
was cleverly burlesqued and we laughed uproari- 
ously at the more or less factual glimpses of our- 
selves preparing for the dance, and later at it. 

At the end of this scene, Miss Gillard was pres- 
ented with a bottle of champagne in honour of her 
25th anniversary at King's Hall. The strains of 
"Thanks For The Memory" floated to us and we 
soared along with the music as it rose and fell until 
the very end, when the air was shattered by the 
thunderous ovation from the audience. 

On the whole, this year's Matric. Entertainment 
was humorous, finished, and extremely clever and 
original. Under Vicky Nesbitt's skilful hand every 
little detail was carefully thought out and polished 
before we were allowed the privilege of seeing it. 
Each scene was skilfully woven into the pattern 
of school life by short skits in front of the curtain, 
which allowed time for the scenery changes. These 
made the whole entertainment move quickly and 
never lag for a second. The costumes were ex- 
tremely realistic and attractive. 

We all wish to thank the Matrics. very much 
for the great effort and work they put into the even- 

ing of October twenty-third, an evening which we 
shall remember with pleasure for a long time to 


Barbara Kerr, VI A 


The first term was a very busy one for us. The 
soccer games that we played against the B.C.S. 
football and Prep, teams and against Stanstead 
were thoroughly enjoyed by everyone, while the 
refreshments afterwards were looked forward to by 
the hungry teams; visits are always pleasant, aren't 
they ? 

A few weeks after the Matric. Entertainment 
everyone approached the gym. with a mingled 
feeling of curiosity and excitement. With a loud 
shriek a ghost shuffled by followed closely by a 
haggard old witch dressed in black rags. What else 
could this be but Hallowe'en! 

With a quick "Sh" the parade began. Cheers 
and laughter greeted the Staff as they parodied 
"Harold's Happy Hall" and "Isabella's Inky In- 
stitution". The Matrics. drew praise as they did 
the Bunny-Hop around the gym. dressed as rabbits 
with powder-puff tails. Next, shrieking and moan- 
ing and carrying flaming torches above their heads 
came the VI A's as the Klu Klux Klan. Rounds of 
applause greeted the VI B's as they marched around 
and we recognized our favourite comic-strip char- 
acters. The VA's were cleverly costumed as circus 
performers and we watched with amusement and 
appreciation the bareback riders, clowns and vari- 
ous other entertainers. The VB's in the attic por- 
trayed themselves amusingly but, we fear, all too 
realistically as they prepared for bed. Especially 
outstanding among the Juniors were the nurse and 
her charges and the French Poodle. All in all the 
costumes were clever and surprisingly original. 
Miss Ainslie very kindly showed us some steps of a 
Scottish folk-dance. After a few more dances a 
group of very tired girls made their way reluctantly 
up to bed after a thoroughly enjoyable evening. 

Once again the annual social affair, the Compton 
"Formal" was awaited with great expectancy until 
November 14th. What was it going to be this year ? 
Many suitable subjects for decorations had already 
been successfully used in previous years but ideas 
seem to be getting better as the years go on. This 
year the VI A's decorated the gym., representing 
the well known Parisian night club "Moulin Rouge" 
immortalized by Toulouse Lautrec. With the much 



needed advice and help of our art teacher, Miss 
Wood, the decorations turned out very well. Sev- 
eral of Lautrec's better known posters were copied 
and placed around the gym. walls. The vivacious 
Can-Can chorus line which is one of the Moulin 
Rouge's main features was not forgotten. A very 
large mural was drawn showing the bar along with 
several of Lautrec's better known characters. The 
usual streamers and balloons once again graced the 
gym. in profusion. With all this was the wonderful 
orchestra and Mr. Burt's excellent refreshments. 
I'm sure everyone enjoyed the Formal tremen- 

For the past several years during the winter 
term the Compton girls have tried their hand at 
knitting and sewing for the Red Cross. The Red 
Cross supper was held on March 27. Thanks to Mrs. 
Aitken and Mr. Burt it could have passed for a 
banquet. Supper was served on three long candle- 
lit tables in the dining room, with chicken salad 
and ice cream for everyone. You can imagine that 
the cheers for Mrs. Aitken and Mr. Burt were 

After supper we gathered in the lounge with the 
Staff. Starting with the juniors each class presented 
its contributions to Miss Gillard. I think that there 
was a wider variety of better finished articles than 
ever before. The Staff too produced a wonderful 
pile of children's clothes. Soon the big white box 
with the red cross on it was filled to the top. 

When everything was put on display we all had 
to agree, with a certain amount of pride, that this 
year's Red Cross drive at Compton was a great 

Christmas time at King's Hall is one of the best- 
loved periods in the school year. Exam, worries 
are over and the holidays are excitingly near. The 
school takes on a festive air as the big scented fir 
tree goes up in its corner and the lounge is hung 
with green branches and red bows. 

Christmas time wouldn't be complete without 
the tale of Scrooge and Tiny Tim. On the last few 
evenings the lounge was filled with girls wrapped 
snugly in blankets as Miss Gillard read the beloved 
"Christmas Carol" once again. 

On the evening of the last Sunday the entire 
school gathered in the Prep. Hall. To begin with, 
the juniors presented a nativity play, "The Heart 
of Christmas". The next part of the programme 
was the carol singing. Each class had prepared a 

French carol and then the choir and Staff both 
sang Christmas anthems. The time the groups had 
spent in preparing their carols was certainly worth 
while, for every carol sounded beautiful, even if the 
French pronunciation was not quite perfect ! The 
Choir, holding lighted candles and singing "Silent 
Night", lined the glass passage as we passed through 
on our way to the lounge. 

There we watched a short skit put on by the 
Matrics. with all the traditional Christmas char- 
acters — Scrooge, elves, reindeer and of course 
Santa Claus. He burst from the fireplace covered 
with soot, but the soot did not dampen his spirit. 
Between bellows of laughter he found in his enor- 
mous bag a present, accompanied by very clever 
verses, for each of the Staff, and a very special pre- 
sent at the bottom for a very special person — Miss 
Gillard. It was a Mikado breakfast set. 

As the evening drew to a close the school joined 
in the old familiar carols as Miss Macdonald played 
them. The evening ended much too quickly but 
Christmas does come once a year. 

Jane Douglas Lane 
Sandra Stewart 
Barbara Kerr 
Rae MacCulloch 

Vo^rwouuoi 3cv»{- Wor-d-5 o *"* 
Hallo uJe.e,r\. 




This year we have been fortunate in having Cur- 
rent Events in two groups. Since we have not much 
time to read the papers, the Current Events Clubs 
have kept us up to date on all the news. On Friday 
evenings Miss Morris discussed with the Matrics. 
and VI A's, not only world headlines, but also 
lighter, humorous incidents. Miss Gibb on Thurs- 
day evenings kept the VI B's and VA's informed 
about the weekly happenings, with an occasional 
debate or news quiz. I am sure that all who attended 
have thoroughly enjoyed those evenings and we 
wish to thank Miss Morris and Miss Gibb very 
much for giving up their spare time to us through- 
out the year. 

A Literature Club was organized again this year 
for the VI A's under the direction of Miss Mac- 
Lennan. On Thursday evenings we listened to re- 
cordings of poetry and of some Shakespeare plays, 
including Macbeth, The Tempest, and Romeo 
and Juliet. The Romeo and Juliet records were 
the gift of an old girl, Katherine Patterson, Mrs. 

Barbara Oliphant, VI A 


This .year as usual all the Forms in the school 
from IV B to VI B had weekly classes in cooking 
and sewing, though the cooking was stressed more 
in the first two terms than in the last. Many delec- 
table dishes appeared on dinner and supper tables 
as the Forms sampled their products. The various 
garments will he on display at the closing. 

Three girls from VI B entered the special three- 
year Household Science Course which one Matric. 
is now completing. These special students made a 
wide variety of clothes, from children's jumpers to 
dresses for themselves. They also learned to cook 
meats and vegetables, to bake, to can, and to pre- 
serve. The Matric. student had, in addition, a 
course in weaving. 

The cooking course is not confined to the kitchen, 
but includes the art of entertaining. The three VI B 
specialists prepared and served a very nice dinner 
for Miss Gillard and several guests, while Nancy 
Palmer, the Matric. specialist, gave a formal din- 
ner to Miss Gillard, Mile. Dumont, and guests. 
Nancy was assisted by several members of the 
Matric. Form. 

Last year Mile. Dumont arranged a most im- 
pressive display of needlework and weaving, and 
we are looking forward to an equally interesting 
one this year. The Household Science students 
wish to thank her for all the "extras", and espe- 
cially for those little "knacks" that make sewing 
and cooking not mere skills but genuine arts. The 
whole school joins the Household Science group in 
wishing Mile. Dumont much happiness in the 
future. We shall miss her, but perhaps some of us 
may be able to call on her in her own home in 


There was much variety in our art classes this 
year. In the first term we concentrated on drawing 
Christmas cards, and on making decorations for 
Hallowe'en and the Formal. The theme for the 
Formal was Moulin Rouge, made famous by 
Toulouse Lautrec's paintings. The posters were 
later used to decorate the swimming pool for Miss 
Gillard's birthday party. 

During the second term, while the Senior Special 
Art practised charcoal and water colours, the Jun- 
iors did oil paintings. In the regular art classes the 
VB's, VA's, and VI B's did their handicraft work, 
making stuffed leather animals — kittens, dogs, and 

I am sure the whole school wishes to thank Miss 
Wood for the many hours she spent helping us. 

Mika Ignatiefp, VI A 


Upper left — Gael Eakin 

Upper right — Gillian Bastian 

Centre left — Penny Parsons 

Centre upper right — Sandra Bogeet 

Centre lower right — Diana MacDougall 

Lower left — Francis Hailey 

Lower right — Elizabeth Price 



... * , 

'•**• IBS $* 










Last weekend I was allowed home for the purpose 
of getting my bands adjusted. Saturday morning, 
while waiting for the taxi to take me to that un- 
pleasant destination, I came across a box filled to 
the top with the letters I had written to my parents 
during the year. Having nothing better to do, I 
started reading, and this is what I found concerning 
our social life outside of K.H.C. Any reference to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental! 

October 11th '54 — We assembled in the lounge. 
Miss Gillard gave us her farewell of "good-luck", 
and when we had all piled into the traditional 
buses — we were off! 

Bishop's at last! We took off our coats, fixed our 
hair, and then sallied forth to meet our fate. The 
dance started off with a standstill, clumps of boys 
on one side and a huge gathering of girls on the 
other. Finally, however, through the frantic efforts 
of the prefects, the dancing began. Halfway through 
we had the supper dance and all went roaring down- 
stairs for refreshments. Diets were forgotten quickly 
as we gazed at the array of cakes, cookies, sand- 
wiches, and other such delicacies before us. After 
that the dance progressed in high style. Just as 
everyone was having "a simply marvellous time", 
the last dance was called. Slowly we piled back 
into the buses, waved good-bye sadly, and burst 
into a torrent of chatter, "Do you know what he 
said to me? — "Isn't he the most!" "He's divine 
. . . ." So ended a perfect day for everyone. 

October 1st — Were asked if we would like to go 
to the Sherbrooke Horse Show. Naturally the 
answer was emphatically, "Yes!" We dashed into 
our navy blues, and in no time were bounding over 
the hills to Sherbrooke! On arriving we settled down 
to watch. Oh what a joy it was to see real horses 
being ridden again instead of the one in (he gym! 
All in all we had a most enjoyable time watching 
the excellent riding and expert handling of the 
hores. Unfortunately, as all good things must, 
this also had to come to an end. 

November 6th— This morning Miss Gillard an- 
nounced, much to our surprise, that there would 
be a tea dance in the afternoon. It was held at 
Bishop's to celebrate the first hockey game played 
in their new indoor rink. It was just as successful 
as the first, but seemed to fly away twice as quickly. 
We would all like to thank Miss Keyzer and Miss 
Gibb very much for escorting us to these wonderful 

December 2nd — Tonight we all went to Bishop's 
production, "The Middle Watch". It was one of 

the most humorous, well-staged plays we have ever 
seen. The costumes and acting were professional, 
even when it came to having two boys playing 
girls' parts! We were in stitches the whole evening 
and really loved the entertaining night- 
February 18th — After Prep we changed and 
rushed over to U.B.C. in our buses. Bishop's uni- 
versity was putting on Macbeth. We entered their 
large gym, settled down, and the curtain rose. From 
then on it was one exciting adventure into the 
world of Shakespeare. The stage settings, scenery, 
and costumes were exquisite, and the acting gave 
us a clearer understanding and enjoyment of the 
play. Everyone is still trying to puzzle out where 
and how, Banquo's ghost disappeared! 

Our thanks go to U.B.C. and B.C.S. for enter- 
taining us at these plays and parties we so much 

Gael Eakin 

P. Parsons, VI A 


At King's Hall this year we were very fortunate 
in having Mrs. Carrington come to speak to us on 
the many experiences connected with her visit to 
the Anglican Congress held in Minneapolis and to 
the World Council of Churches held in Evanston. 

Mrs. Carrington told us many of the stories that 
she had heard at the Conference from delegates 
who came from every corner of the world. After her 
talk we were permitted to ask questions, which she 
very kindly answered, giving us much interesting 

Late in the fall Miss C. L. Howe, representing 
the Canadian Red Cross, came to speak to us on 
the achievements of the Red Cross during the past 
year. We were thrilled to hear of the many projects 
undertaken by Canadian boys and girls who are 
giving up their free time to help others. 

In the last term Miss Norris from the Sherbrooke 
Hospital very kindly came to tell us about dif- 
ferent aspects of nursing. She gave us a far clearer 
idea of the duties, the studies and the satisfaction 
of the nursing profession. Her talk helped many 
who were considering nursing as a career. 

On behalf of King's Hall, I should like to thank 
Mrs. Carrington, Miss C. L. Howe, and Miss Norris 
for their interesting visits which have helped to 
make 1955 a very memorable year for us. 

Harriet Schneider, VI B 




Again this year the McGill Alumnae Association 
sponsored a public speaking contest for high school 
girls of Quebec Province. Semi-finals were held in 
eleven different districts, the winners of these 
speaking at the finals in Montreal on March 8th. 
Judy Macdonald, VI A., brought honour to King's 
Hall by winning the semi-final in Sherbrooke and 
therefore representing the St. Francis district in 
the finals. Although she did not win those, we are 
all very proud of her, and know that she was a 
credit to the school. We publish her speech below. 


I shall begin by asking you, "What is a ghost?" 
Well, it is an abstract thing that walks in the like- 
ness of some human being affer his mortal death. 
Ghosts have been a topic for fiction of every kind 
ever since the imagination of man provoked him to 
write down his thoughts and fancies. The average 
unimaginative person might think that too much 
was demanded of his credulity to be asked to 
accept a ghost as a character in a play or story. 
But these people are mistaken; they remain too 
down to earth and do not accept what so easily 
might be theirs — a land of delightful fantasy. 
Ghosts hold a fascination for people of all ages, 
from those who enjoy the ghosts of Shakespeare to 
the children who look forward to "Caspar the 
Ghost" in the daily newspapers. 

The best known and loved author of the Eliza- 
bethan era was Shakespeare. He was extremely 
fond of putting supernatural beings into his plays. 
Hamlet's father is one of the most intriguing of 
Shakespeare's ghosts, and makes a startlingly dra- 
matic entrance. He has communication only with 
his son, the one person who believes he has been 
murdered. This ghost describes in graphic terms 
the torments he is doomed to suffer until his "most 
foul murder" has been avenged. The avenging of 
this murder is the pivot on which the play rotates. 
This suspensful story is not made the more un- 
believable by the presence of a ghost, but very 
much to the contrary. Shakespeare uses his ghosts 
to intensify the dramatic effect. Who has seen a 
Shakespeare ghost enter upon the stage and has 
not felt the excitement of that dramatic moment 
magnify ? When Macbeth is about to sit down at 
the dinner table among his friends he hesitates, 
becomes confused, for there in his very chair is the 
ghost of Banquo whom he has just murdered. 

Now I should like to pass to a lighter side of 
literature, to Dickens' beloved Christinas Carol. 
At the first glance we see that the ghost of Jacob 
Marley remains true to tradition. We see him . . . 
white robed, transparently white-skinned, and 
dragging many leagues of chains. Marley can, in 
the well-known and accepted fashion, pass through 
doors and windows with little effort. But Marley 
is more than an illuminated figure; he is a warm- 
hearted and loyal friend to his old companion 
Scrooge. He does not want to see Scrooge utterly 
destroyed, but rather wants to set him on the right 
path again. If it had not been for the goodness of 
Jacob Marley I think that Scrooge would still be 
living his miserly, pent-up life. 

It is not only previous ages that have given us 
fascinating ghosts, but modern literature has also 
contributed to our repertoire of ghosts. Alfred 
Noyse gives us the picturesque Highwayman who 
frequently returns, after his brutal killing, to the 
locked and barred inn door. "Over the ribbon of 
moonlight" he still comes riding with the same 
vehemence that stood by him in all his other noc- 
turnal escapades. 

In past days ghosts belonged to the realm of prob- 
ability, but to-day to the realm of imagination — 
and yet, who knows ? Even in this age of facts and 
proofs You, or You, or You might harbour deep in 
your hearts a few doubts. If you deny this may I 
ask you, if a translucent, unco-ordinated figure 
came stumbling and gasping toward you, which of 
.yon would be the first to cry out ? 

Judy Macdonald, VI A 

** Hrue; you Re«T>T)Esi*ee? 




The most important factor in the success of any 
athletic activity is, perhaps, good sportsmanship. 
The good sportsmanship shown by the girls in the 
soccer, basketball and various House competitions 
has made this year's events, regardless of whether 
they were between Houses or against a visiting 
team, equally hard fought and exciting for the 
players as well as the spectators. 

During the Christmas term the soccer fields were 
continually in use. We had a new drainage system 
under the old field and most of the games were 
played in good field conditions. The school soccer 
team had a very successful season. When (lie 
weather changed and if was no longer good for 
soccer, we had House games in the gym and I he 
House spirit was tremendous. 

After Christmas we returned to find the skiing 
better than it liad been for many years, and ar- 
rangements had been made for us to make the 
most of it. Busses at the Compfon door became a 
familiar sight as they waited to take a group to 
Hillcrest Lodge for an afternoon of instruction and 
practice in skiing. Our grateful thanks go to Miss 
Morris, Miss Keyzer, and Miss Defries who gave 
up so much of their lime to accompany us. At the 
end of the term volleyball, basketball, and the bad- 
minton tournaments were the chief interests, and 
on the last week-end an inter-House swimming 
meet was held, which proved very successful. 

People were making use of the four new tennis 
courts from the first day the June term began, and 
the tennis, along with baseball, swimming and 
badminton will lie the main sporting activities of 
this term; however, contrary to our usual custom, 
we have continued basketball into the June term, 
and the basketball team has played one very hard- 
fought game at Stanstead. Another is to be played 
and we wish the team the best of luck. 

All in all it has been a very successful year. On 
behalf of all the girls 1 should like to thank Miss 
Keyzer, Mr. Roberts and Miss Ainsley for giving 
so much of their time and patience to helping us. 
For myself I would like to thank all of you for 
your tremendous support and enthusiasm through- 
out I lie year. 

Jill Woods 


The swimming pool was as popular this year as 
it has always been in the past, many girls using it 
not only for recreation but seriously to improve 
their style and skill. A swimming meet was held at 
the end of the second term, and nearly every girl 
took pari in the many relay races or diving con- 
tests. The meet was a. great success, and though all 
well, Rideau gained the highest 

the Houses did 

Heather Morris, VI B 




Front Row: Jill Woods Front Row: 

Second Row: S. Cuthbertson, B. Cope Second How: 

Third Row: C. Chadwick, A. Mitchell, J. Pacaud, V. Nesbitt Third Row: 

Fourth Row: S. Eakin, B. J. Newell, A. Rawlings, H. Tucker Fourth Row: 


F. Harley, H. Schneider, A. Iddon 

C. Ogilvy, S. Huycke, L. Murray, J. Millar 

L. Weir, L. Grier, A. Holton 

E. Smith, M. Jamieson, W. Johnston, E. 



The soccer season was especially good this year 
because the new field to the north of the school en- 
abled twice the number of girls to play each after- 
noon. In addition to the inter-Form and inter- 
House games five matches were played with out- 
side teams. One of the most exciting of these was on 
October 17, against the Old Girls. Our teams played 
twice against Bishop's — on November 3, against 
the Bishop's soccer crease, and on November 13, 
against their first football team. Although this 
game was an epilogue to the "Formal" it was hotly 
contested, with keen playing on both sides. The 
annual and always enjoyable games with Stanstead 
were again well played on both sides. These took 
place on November 4 and 11. It was not until the 
snow buried the field that the soccer enthusiasts 
turned their attention to skiing, skating, and vol- 


The weatherman was extremely generous this 
year, giving us excellent conditions for both skiing 
and skating. Each Form made numerous trips to 
Hillcrest, where we had skiing lessons. All bene- 
fited greatly from this instruction and enjoyed the 
excursions very much, even to the hot dogs and 
cocoa ! 

This year a loud speaker was installed at the skat- 
ing rink, the music adding much to the pleasure of 
skating. We should like to thank Mrs. Aitken for 
giving up numerous afternoons to play records for 
our enjoyment. Even those who did not skate 
liked to stand watching the others and listening to 
the music. The ice has never been better than it 
was this season. Altogether, 1955 was outstanding 
for winter sports. 

Eve Smith, VI A 



Front Row: 
Second Row 
Third Row: 
Fourth Row: S. Ward 


Helen Tucker 

A. Mitchell, B. Cope 

J. Millward, C. Hudson, B. Kerr 

B. J. Newell, G. Hardinge, 



On account of the excellent skiing and skating 
during the winter term, basketball was started too 
late to schedule any games with Stanstead. How- 
ever, great crowds of cheering girls came to the 
very exciting games between Forms on Sunday 

Since the beginning of the summer term the girls 
have enthusiastically practised, as there is close 
competition for the teams. Then Miss Keyzer cut 
down the number of players to nine — a team and 
two subs. We had one very hair-raising game at 
Stanstead, followed by a delicious dinner. The 
return game was equally thrilling, and we hope 
that our guests enjoyed themselves as much here 
as we did at Stanstead. 

Lucia na Wagner, VI A 


The keen participation in badminton this year, 
besides producing several experts, has often re- 
sulted in a rush for the gym. after Prep. All year 
round the enthusiasm has increased until now it is 
at the peak as the finals are in sight. Unfortunately 
the Magazine has to go to press lief ore the tourna- 
ments have been completed. We can announce only 
the Junior Doubles champions, Beverley Rooney 
and Gillian Bastian. Congratulations! We all hope 
the interest in this sport will continue to be as great 
as it is this season. Gael Eakin, VI A. 




Front Row: Carol Ogilvy 

Second Row: P. McFetrick, R. Fitzgerald 

Third Row: J. Douglas Lane, H. Morris, A. Iddon 

Fourth Row: E. Napier, L. Wagner, H. Schneider, E. Smith 


Tennis this year has been a great success and the 
courts have been buzzing with enthusiasm ever 
since the snow left and our skis were put away. We 
have two marvellous new courts which have given 
twice as many people a chance to play and have 
created an even greater enthusiasm than ever be- 
fore. Even those who prefer lying in the sun have 
enjoyed watching their more energetic friends 
striving to improve their game. 

We especially appreciated the lessons of our 
visiting coach, Mrs. Bronson, (better known at 
King's Hall as Miss Robertson.) The few hours of 
instruction from her will give us many hours of 
pleasure in the future. 

As the Magazine is going to press the tourna- 
ments are just beginning, and everyone is filled 
with eager anticipation, wondering who will be the 
1955 "Champion of the Courts." 

Marion MacDougall, VI A 


In the intervals of skiing and skating a series of 
most popular volleyball games was arranged. Amid 
cheers of "Keep it up!" real team work was dis- 
played. We had many inter-Form games, the cham- 
pions for the year being VI B. All in all, many happy 
hours passed quickly on the volleyball court. 

Frances Harley, VI B 



House &eporte 


M — is for the marvellous Montcalm group. 

Not once through the year did your spirits 

O — is for order marks which you've tried not to 
But we realize how easy it is to forget! 
N — is for naughty which some of you seemed, 

But you worked very hard and at last were 
T — is our thanks for the wonderful year 

To all 44 we give a big cheer! 
C — is for courteous which all of you are; 

With manners like that, Montcalm will go far! 
A — is for attitude, how good it has has been, 

Such fight and such spirit have seldom been 

L — is for luck which we wish you next year, 

And Oh, how we wish that we could be here. 

M — is for Montcalm and the light blue tie, 

To which proudly and sadly we now say good- 
bye ! 

P.S. On behalf of Montcalm we should like to 
thank Diddy Allan for her efficient help dur- 
ing Di's absence. 

Di and B. J. 


'54-'55: a wonderful year for both of us! Our main 
reason for saying this is that we were chosen to be 
prefects on MacDonald. (One of us had previously 
been a Montcalmer, but you'd never know it now!) 

All in all, we have had a wonderful group to work 
with: co-operative, full of fun, eager, and above 
all — chock-full of House spirit! House spirit is what 
makes the house go round, and it has MacDonald 
spinning! From two who know, future prefects, 
you will have an excellent House to work with and 
back you up! 

All the luck in the world to everyone on the house 
and remember that gold never tarnishes ! 

Judy and Cuthy 




We are 

Proud to 

Say — the 

Year's been 

Perfect all 

The way, your 

Spirit's splen- 

Did. We cheer it! 

In work or sports, 

Easy or gruelling, 3^011 

Kept up the fight even 

If you were losing. That 

Is why — Rideau, you'll never 

Yield. You'll get those shields. 

Never to falter and never to fall. 

Good-bye for now and God bless you all! 

Ann and Tony 




The following is intended to test the reader's 
knowledge of an everyday thing at King's Hall. 

1. What is it that is almost always bright and gay, 
although sometimes troublesome ? 

2. What is it that had thirty girls in it this year, 
seven of them new girls ? 

3. What is it that moved into the beautiful new 
form-room when it was ready (much to the sur- 
prise of the "object" in question) ? 

4. What is it that had Brenda Keddie as first term 
Form Captain and Jane Lane as first term 
Sports Captain? As an added hint it also had 
Barbara Kerr as second term Form Captain 
and Marion MacDougall as second term Sports 
Captain, and wants to thank these four girls 
for carrying out their jobs so well. 

5. What is it that began the inter-form basket- 
ball games in the gym. after supper on Sunday 
evenings ? 

6. What is it that produced two plays — "Michael" 
and "The Grand Cham's Diamond" — during 
the third term under Miss MacLerman's direc- 
tion ? 

7. What is it that was clever enough to build a 
gym-horse out of snow on the front oval and 
spend a whole afternoon improving their vault- 
ing form ? 

8. What is it that had plenty of fun on bicycles, 
skis, skates, and even occasionally on foot dur- 
ing the past year ? 

9. What is it that feels a very successful year has 
been spent (in the one just past) ? 

10. What is it that wants to thank Miss Keith very 
much for being such a wonderful Form Mis- 
t ress all year ? 

11. What is if that answers all these questions and 
fits all these descriptions perfectly? 

Answer: VI A, of course! (We knew you'd guess it !) 
Susan Kilgouh and Gael Eakin 

vJWy ai.ww 3 c,«h > ? 



Dear . . . , 

This year has been a terrific one. I was in VI B 
with thirty-three others, twenty-five of whom were 
on the upper corridor under the ever-watchful eyes 
of Miss MacLennan and Miss Wood, and the other 
eight in Sleepy Hollow, sometimes described as a 

Some of the girls were from other countries. These 
were Tottie Schneider and Anne Iddon from the 
States, Irma Shiess from El Salvador, Elizabeth 
Echols from British Guiana and others from that 
barbarous land of Ontario, examples being Sue 
Huycke, Cynthia Hutchins, Lyn Weir and Sue 
Blackburn. Newfoundland gave us Judy Gruchy 
and Betty Moore. 

V I B has some social belles and at Christmas our 
Montrealers gave a semi-formal with the help of 
Sue Meagher, Judy Robb, Jane Gushing, Janet 
Martin, and Brenda Cuthbertson. Everyone had a 
wonderful time and the dance was a great success. 

Our class was very athletic-minded and with the 
help of our Sports Captains, Carol Ogilvy and Fran 
Harley, we produced (good ?) enthusiastic soccer 
and basketball teams. Marj. Jamieson, Anne Iddon, 
Carol Ogilvy, Fran Harley, Linda Grier, Anne 
Holton and Tottie Schneider were class represen- 
tatives on the Junior Soccer team. (Olympic Hope- 
fuls for '65.) The VI B volleyball team was out- 
standing as it scored victories over every other 
form. Heather Morris and Bambi Reeves were 
flashing VI B spirits in the school badminton tour- 
naments. Flora Church, Lucy Doucet, Tony Taylor 
and Tony Newman showed professional skiing 
prowess on our hills. Ann Bieler, Judy Perron 
(when not drawing), Di MacDougall (when not 
telling stories) and Honor MacDougall (when not 
reading the sports page) were interested members 
of Current Events. 

We have had two very successful Form Captains. 
How they stood us we shall never know, but the 
thanks of the class go to Lyse Quenneville and Liz 
Napier for a fine job. 

Last of all, the class and I would like to give a 
hearty "three cheers to Miss Hughes! She has been 
a kind, understanding, and thoughtful Form Mis- 
tress. Even though we let her down many times 
she has always been pulling for us. 

Must rush as the bell has rung and all VI B's run 
at the first bell ! 

With love, 

Fran Harley, VI B 



V3=S Jf orm 

i puswumh i 

V3=P Jforn 

kfeiBft k 


..! .€™^r51 St.. 




Although our form is the "worst of all" 

And always running in the hall, 

And always making Miss Parfit sad 

Because we are so very bad 

I think our group of twenty-eight 

Are all nice girls you couldn't hate. 

There's Gill who's good at everything 

And Patty who does the "Highland Fling". 

When Pat, Debby, Jane and Jo are near 

"B.C.S." is all you hear. 

Gail always loves to do ballet 

And Cathy to sing like a lark all day. 

Then there's Joan who is our artist 

And Heather who is our smartest. 

There's Bev who's a lover of tennis 

And Anne Rise, our own version of Dennis the 

Shiela's a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs 
And Di chats in Spanish each day with Elise. 
Nici came up to our form from V B 
And Lorna and Mary Jane each a Liberace. 
We have Sandy who's father commands the "Lab- 
And Cinny whose dog we now all adore! 
Dowie and Vaughan are naughty but nice, 
And Bizzy Angus is a whiz on the ice; 
Alison who just adores doing Math, 
Judi, when mad, goes and sleeps in the bath. 
The algebra lover is Margo, you'll see, 
And with twenty-one pen-pals there's our friend 

As for the author, there's not much to say, 
Except that she sits in class dreaming all day. 
When in the Autumn soccer games we did play 
Our form really beat both VI B and VI A 
But now that we're playing basketball, 
We've not won a single game at all! 
Our skiers whiz down the slopes at Ilillcrest, 
While our skaters glide over (lie ice with much zesl . 
Snowball lights are full of fun 
While swimming is enjoyed by everyone. 
Badminton's one of our favourite sports 
And it's always fun on the tennis courts. 
The operetta, we must confess, 
Thanks to Miss Hewson, was a success! 
We all thank Miss Parfit for an enjoyable year 
And feels she deserves the heartiest cheer! 

Vivian Wagner, 5A 


This year V B consists of twenty, 
(And in the Staff's opinion plenty.) 
Our young first lady, Elizabeth Price, 
As a wonderful Form Captain — voted twice, 
Tries to keep us in order by hook or by crook — 
And often gets silence with a dirty look. 
Our sports, Tay, helps as best she can, 
And Miss Ramsay's glance sweeps o'er a large span. 
Our foreigners — Ann Smith, who masters Spanish — 
Angela Tinkler — with brains uncannish 
And Jennifer Parsons of U.S.A., 
Who tells us the fashions from far away. 
New girls this year include myself 
With Cindy Lyman, a tiny elf, 
And Sally, Shirley, Jennifer second, 
Joan, Nancy and Mary — an author, I reckon. 
The first term's Form Captain, AVendy Whitehead, 
Goes arm in arm with Heather — a redhead. 
Judy, the girl with the wonderful brain, 
And our scatterbrained, laughing, cheerful Elaine, 
Both look up to Jareth's great height, 
Working steadily with all her might. 
Rosemary Christensen with the smiles, 
Is partnered off with Sally Myles. 

So as you see 

This year V B consists of twenty, 
(Still, in the Staff's opinion, plenty?) 
And now to Miss Ramsay we give our thanks 
For helping us, this year, to climb steep banks 
For steep banks our brains must truly climb- 
All of us aren't great along this line, 
But still all have added a little spice 
To the potion making V B nice. 

Ruth Peverley, V B 




V-ja Jform 

Jf orms V-Ji, 3V -a, 3^T=; 




This year our form has seven girls. These are 
Virginia Echols, Jennifer Woods, Hobby Starke, 
Renee Moncel, Jennifer Pattern, Wendy Watson, 
and Julia Kingston. Generally we arc very happy 
together. Our form captains this year have been 
Jennifer Pattern, Bobby Starke and Julia Kingston. 

In the Christmas term we joined the IV B's and 
VB's to do a Christmas play called "The Heart of 
Christmas!" It was very successful, thanks to Miss 

Most of our form are very keen at sports and 
have been taking part in the House games through- 
out the year. We have also had lots of swimming. 
We have enjoyed these sports very much. In the 
first term we went to a horse show in Sherbrooke. 
We thought it was very good. We did work for the 
Red Cross and handed it in with the school dona- 
tion in March. 

We all want to thank Mrs. Elliott for making the 
year so pleasant and for all the extra time she has 
given us. 

Julia Kingston, IV A 


There are only four of us in IV B this year. 
Josettc Cochand is the eldest and a wonderful 
skier; Marcia Pacaud is the youngest and is a 
chatterbox; Lorraine Ronalds and Michele Robert- 
son are new girls and have added to the laughter 
and mischief of the class. 

We have had a happy year at work and play. The 
events we remember most clearly are Hallowe'en 
when we dressed up as a nurse, two babies, and a 
poodle and won second prize; the Christmas na- 
tivity play; the skiing, skating, and sugaring in 
the middle term and the tennis and hop-scotch 
now. Michele and Marcia had parts in the VI A 
play, "Michael". We were all in the French play, 
"Les Trois Ours". 

We should like to thank Miss Gibb, our Form 
Mistress, for her help during the year. 


This year in the Cottage there are twenty-one 
happy-go-lucky girls. Our youngest members are 
the Four B's who are Josettc Cochand, Lorraine 
Ronalds, Michele Robertson, and Marcia Pacaud. 
They are the smallest form and tin 1 pets of the 
school. Next come the Four A's who are Julia 
Kingston, Jennifer Woods, Jennifer Patton, Roberta 
Starke, Wendy Watson, Virginia Echols, and Renee 
Moncel. The oldest in the Cottage are the Five B's. 
They are written up in del ail in (heir own report 
so I will only mention their names, which are Hea- 
ther Black, Joan Cordeau, Sally Myles, Jennifer 
Lamplough, Angela Tinkler, Nancy Jackman, 
Shirley Morris, Sally Scott, Ann Smith, and myself. 

Because one half of the Five B form live at (lie 
other house the Junior Cottage half can have their 
classmates over now and then. Mrs. and Miss Gibb 
have both been very kind in arranging and cooking 
for the three such parties as we have had this year 
The Four B's and Four A's have also had some 
parties during the year. A Christmas Party was 
one which the whole Cottage attended. Being a 
new girl F did not know what to expect— if was 

On behalf of the whole Junior Cottage I would 
like to thank both Mrs. and Miss Gibb lor a very 
enjoyable year. 

Ruth Piovehlkv 




It all happened one day last summer. The mid- 
summer sun was smothering the afternoon in heat. 
I plodded aimlessly through the thick dust of the 
little road leading down the hill and parallel to the 
beach. The road led nowhere in particular, but 
what else was there to do on such a day ? I sank 
down on the grass by the little freshwater lake 
that was shut from the sea by the enormous billows 
of the sand dunes. I felt the water, but after five 
days of this suffocating heat it was warm, much 
too warm. I wandered along the edge of the small 
lake to where a little brook running down to the 
sea had carved a miniature valley in the high dune. 
I followed it, with the current pushing against my 
ankles and the sand slipping away from beneath 
my feet, down to the edge of the sea. 

Even the swell was but a ripple to-day. I walked 
along the edge of the water where the waves had 
licked dark tongues of wet sand. The beach above 
me glistened in a burning white heat while the 
calm sea was covered with a layer of molten gold. 
I was thinking about nothing. There was room in 
my mind for nothing but the heat and the bright- 

Suddenly I heard the drumming of running feet 
on the sand. I felt as though I were waking from a 
dream for the drowsy beach had become alive, so 
intense was the life of the little boy who was hurt- 
ling toward me. He was an odd figure, dressed in a 
man's ragged shirt that hung almost to his knobbly 
knees. His arms, legs and face were thin and tanned ; 
his hair, a bowl-like thatch. As he came closer I 
saw that his eyes were large, dark, and charged 
with life . . . almost too large for his small brown 

"Mam' selle, mam'selle!" he called out, as lie 
stopped in front of me. "We got to gel a, docteur 
for Pierre. His foot got off in de storm whan he 
tried to cut de ropes loose. De boat got oil' in de 
storm too. Nobody can speak Anglais but only me, 
so I came." 

During this panting torrent, of words I had looked 
out at the sea. Two hundred yards off shore an old 
gaff-rigged schooner lay low in tin 1 water. Her only 
remaining sail hung like a gray rag, torn and limp. 
Three figures were on the deck watching us. 

The boy followed my glance and exclaimed 
proudly, " 'La Belle Dame', she's de best troller in 
de fleet. We're de first at de Banks in de spring and 
de first back in St. Nazaire wid our fish. Pierre 
owns her." Then he remembered suddenly. "Oh 

mam'selle, we got to get a docteur for Pierre. His 
foot hurts him bad." 

I told him quickly that the doctor lived a half- 
mile down the road, and that when we found him 
he could get to Pierre quickly by boat. Calling the 
boy to follow, I started toward the road. I no 
longer noticed the heat of the sand or the hardness 
of the band of rounded stones at the top of the 
beach. Up over the dune and between the little 
hills of sand held together by the cutting beach 
grass, I ran. I heard the little boy cry out and 

waited impatiently for him to catch up He did 

not come. He must have lost sight of me. I ran 
back to the top of the dune. 

The white sand glistened bare. On the horizon 
floated a tall grey cloud. There was nothing more. 

In a little musty church in St. Nazaire hangs an 
old wooden plaque inscribed to the memory of a 
Jean Pierre Lebrun who died one summer while 
fishing on the Grand Banks, and in memory of 
Paul Tistet Gastonguay, eight years old, who was 
put ashore somewhere in Nova Scotia to get help 
for him and never returned. The plaque is dated 

Rae MacCulloch, Matric. 


With silver coals tinted by dark shade of night, 
And amber eyes gleaming and proud, 
With masked eager faces in silent moonlight, 
And slim, wicked heads in a crowd — 

Willi hearts sick and lonely for a. freedom lost 
in I he wild sea, of wood-sights and sounds, 
Where a, starred hope in heaven paid ever the cost 
Of I he careless players' magic bounds — 

Though anxious and haughty in strange fear and 

In helpless bewilderment caught — 
The quality courage steadfastly is there 
To answer what freedom has taught. 

The moonshine is silky— on far woods il falls 
On the tumble of tossed russet leaves. 
The frosty wind sings round the heavy grey walls. 
In the east, crowns of gold wreath the trees. 

Susan Kilgouh, VI A 




A playful breeze danced through the pines on 
velvet feet, pounding on the rusty pine needles, 
swirling them through the air and then letting 
them fall to the ground in a soft brown blanket. 
Rocks embedded deeply in the ground were covered 
with a light clinging lichen, musty green in colour, 
reflecting the blushing orange of the sunset. A 
dozing owl high in the branches of an aging white 
pine hooted an angry protest as a lively wind rocked 
his branch causing him to open his heavy eyelids 
and blink stupidly into the sunset. A coal black 
raven, perched high on the tip of one tree, cawed 
to his mate and then with a grand swoop dived off 
his branch and soon became a tiny speck in the 
darkening sky. Then as night closed her arms 
around the pine forest, the branches gently swayed 
in the breeze, putting all the forest creatures to 

Susan Blackburn, VI B 


All the little angels in Heaven were rejoicing, but 
in the small white cottage in Devon overlooking 
the sea there was no joy, only sadness. The day 
was sunny, which was unusual for the little English 
shire. A frail eight-year-old girl, Colleen, lay still 
in her bed hardly breathing. Her lovely face, usu- 
ally the most delicate pink, but now as white as 
snow, was framed with long golden locks. Her 
mother was on her knees by the bed, silently weep- 
ing and praying for her only child. Her father stood 
on the opposite side of the bed, his face white and 
drawn. The child's tiny eyelids fluttered open 
allowing the sparkling blue eyes to bid the earth 
goodbye. Colleen gave one long sigh and breathed 
no more. She lay still on the bed while her spirit 
went soaring Heavenward where she would become 
one of His cherished angels. Colleen's father put 
his arms comfortingly around his wife, who was 
now sobbing uncontrollably. 

The little angels begged St. Peter to allow them 
to go and meet Colleen. They wanted to make her 
happy in her strange new world. He took the great 
brass key, unlocked the Golden Gate, and the little 
angels flew happily out. They found Colleen sitting 
by the milky way examining her new gossamer 
wings and shiny golden halo. The little angels wel- 
comed her and took her back to Heaven with them. 
They then showed her around the wonderful golden 
land where all are happy and content. The Big 

7] I L;V/ 

Dipper saw them coming and called to his son, The 
Little Dipper, to come and welcome the new angel. 
From there they proceeded to the star factory 
where the Great Bear was busy making gold, silver, 
red, blue, green, and many other beautifully col- 
oured stars. Colleen gasped with delight when a 
gold star came to life right before her very eyes. It 
enme bouncing over to her and gave her the most 
beautiful twinkle she had ever seen. Then they 
went to the house of the twins, Castor and Pollux, 
the beautiful young boys who dream the same 
dreams and think the same thoughts because they 
share the same heart and mind. Orion, their father, 
came hurrying in and told the little angels to be 
quick if they wished to visit Venus, as she is the 
first star to go to work at night. Quickly they flew 
down to Venus' house, which overlooks the milky 
way, and found her husband, the North Star, busy 
shining her and sprinkling her with Stardust. She 
blew the little angels a kiss and gently enfolded 
Colleen in her soft light, telling her in her low mu- 
sical voice how happy she was to see her. After 
Venus had sailed off into the dark blue sky the 
little angels took Colleen back to their silver- 
lined cloud, where they sank into the soft white 
fleece and counted shooting stars until they fell 

As Colleen couldn't remember her life on earth 
she was very happy, but sometimes she dreams of 
a far away land that is green, not gold, and where 
angels without wings or haloes walk, and of the 
deep love that two of these angels had for her. 
Jane Douglas Lane, VI A 




The notes of a hunting horn mingled with the 
deep rich voices of hounds, came clearly through 
my half-open window in the early morning. I woke 
up with a start. Was I dreaming? No, there it 
sounded again. I climbed out of bed and ran to the 

The far-off field wore a shroud of silver mist 
through which nothing could be seen. I couldn't 
help feeling disappointed, but as I looked again I 
saw that even then the mist was lifting, and I 
could distinguish the bright pink of a hunting coat, 
There was a faint thud of pawing horses coupled 
with the voices of the field. Now sounds floated in 
snatches to me above the receding mist, Suddenly 
the whole world seemed filled with the thrilling 
music of the pack. "Gone Away!" sounded again 
and again in triumphant notes, and the sun broke 
from its bed in the sky to lay the whole glorious 
scene before me in brilliant colours. 

The hunting print above my bed seemed to come 
to life. The hounds fled— a mass of brown and white 
streaming across the amber stubble. The field fol- 
lowed them— a blend of scarlet and black against 
the flaming autumn trees, and the whole was etched 
against a cloudless morning sky. Horses' coats 
glinted and rippled as they galloped after the 
hounds and rose like waves of the sea to jump and 
land in steady succession. 

They were soon in the next field, and I watched 
until they disappeared over a hill. The figures grew 
smaller and smaller as they moved, and, just before 
I could see them no more, they reached the size of 
those in my hunting print. 

The field where the hunt had gathered was quiet 
now, except for a flock of restless birds. The faint 
music of the hounds echoed from the distance and 
hung suspended in the sunshine. 

Sandra Stewart, VI A 



In the midst of a vast and lonely sea 
She stands alone becalmed. 
Is there, nothing can save her? 
Only a wind that conies no more 
To moan, and crack her aged limbs. 
She lies at rest, ah rest, and forever 
With quiet sails. 

Antonia Mitchell, Mafric 


Once upon a time there dwelt in the land of Fan- 
tasia a fairy couple and their only child, Marya. 
Marya was a sweet little girl with masses of black 
curly hair and large doe-brown eyes. She was a 
lovable child, always kind and considerate of 
everyone. She led a rather sheltered and lonely life 
although she did not realize this, so happy was she 
with the little pleasures of every day — roaming 
about the hills barefoot, flying with the butter- 
flies across the fields, singing with birds as she 
paddled her feet in a trickling brook. Her only play- 
mates were the animals she befriended, and the 
hills, rivers, land and trees that surrounded her. 

Then one day suddenly all the peace and seren- 
ity, the love and happiness of her tiny world col- 
lapsed. Death summoned her parents and led them 
from Fantasia into the land of Infinity. Now that 
Marya was all alone she decided to set out into the 
world and make her living as a fairy that left money 
for children's teeth. Her one desire was that some 
day, if she were good enough, she might become 
the fairy godmother of some human child and have 
a beautiful silver-tipped wand to grant wishes. 

Resolutely she said good-bye to all her animal 
friends and left her home, taking with her as her 
only possession the tattered dress she now wore. 
On her dainty wings she flew steadily for two days, 
stopping only long enough now and then to sip 
nectar from some flowers, to refresh her. At last 
she arrived at the home of the Chief Fairy Tooth- 
man. She knocked timidly at the front door which 
was opened almost immediately by a plump, red- 
faced fairy. The plump fairy's smile froze on her 
face and a scowl replaced it when her gaze lighted 
on Marya. 

She slammed the door shut with a, "We don't 
want none of your kind around here!" 

Once again Marya knocked timidly. The same 
red-faced fairy again opened the door and again 
glared down at her. "I told you, we don't need 
you!" she shouted angrily. 

"Please ma'am, I'd be willing to do anything, 
anything, just so I might work here." 

"Now listen here, if you don't 

"Just a minute,Martha, " interrupted an elderly 
man-fairy. "Maybe we can use her." Winking 
knowingly at Martha, he asked Marya, "You'd be 
willing to do anything?" 

"Oh, yes, sir!" 



"Well then, you can be the housemaid. You'll 
have a room, and two specks of fairy dust a week. 
Now run along up there and get to work." 

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much, sir!" 

With a little bounce of joy she flew up to the 
room toward which he pointed. 

Downstairs the two fairies were still talking. 
"You know very well the others won't put up with 
her", the woman said, shaking her head. 

"So what!" responded the other. "At least we'll 
get all the dirty work done!" 

"That's true," she agreed. "Mm," she reflected, 
laughing. "Imagine! Willing to work for only two 
specks a week! I guess no one would take one of 
her kind in!" 

Several weeks passed, and Marya was still work- 
ing away. Being cooped up in a dark room was not 
good for her, and slowly the lustre faded from her 
hair and the sparkle from her eye. She preferred 
the dark room, however, to the bedroom she shared 
with ten other fairies, who delivered the money she 
so laboriously polished. Anything was better than 
to bear their jeering and mockery. Just because she 
was not like them, because her hair was dark and 
theirs was fair, because her eyes were brown and 
theirs were blue, they gave her no mercy from their 
relentless taunting. At first she had been quite 
willing to do the little extra jobs they had given 
her, as she was always eager to help. After a few 
weeks had passed, however, and the number and 
the unpleasantness of the jobs had increased, she 
had grown tired, but she still kept on. 

She constantly reminded herself, "I'm indeed 
fortunate to be able to make children happy, and 
so I must continue, no matter what they say to 

The days became shorter and colder and the 
nights longer and more bitter as the winter ap- 
proached and the autumn slipped away. The trees 
had already shed their cloaks of scarlet, green, and 
gold, and now stood desolate and bare. At the house 
of the Chief Fairy Toothman, preparations were 
being made for a large banquet to celebrate the 
birthday of the Prince of All the Land. The golden- 
haired fairies laughed and sang as they decorated 
the large hall. Out in the kitchen, preparing the 
food for the feast was Marya. Several months had 
now passed since she had come to the house of the 
Chief Fairy Toothman. She wore the same dress, 
only now it was tattered and dirty; even her dainty 
wings had lost some of their loveliness. Her shoul- 
ders were stooped as though under a heavy burden, 
and yet she hummed a little tune softly as she 

worked. She considered herself lucky to be able to 
prepare the food for someone as great as the Prince. 

"Hurry up, you lazy thing!" Martha shouted. 

"Yes Ma'am," she answered tiredly. 

After she had finished preparing the meal she 
walked slowly into the room where the banquet 
was to be held. The table itself was a masterpiece. 
Appetizing platters of all sorts of delicacies were 
already placed on it, and the delicious odour of 
fried chicken wafted up from one of them. She 
stood gazing with awe at the lovely spectacle. 

"What are you doing in here?" cried one of the 
fairies shrilly. "What right have you to be in here ?" 

"I was only ..•.." 

"Never mind, get out!" shouted another. 

"Out! Out!" others took up the cry. Cruelly they 
rushed at her. "Outside is where you belong!" they 
shouted as they dragged her to the door. 

They threw her down into the deepest snow- 
bank, and laughed as they skipped back into the 
house. She lay there still for a long time, not daring 
to move. Suddenly a deep voice, full of concern, 
ar-oused her. 

"Why are you lying there, my child?" You'll 
catch your death of cold! Gently the stranger picked 
her up in his strong arms. "Don't cry, little one. 
You'll be fine now." 

"Don't you hate me like everyone else?" she 
asked, her large eyes wondering. 

"No one hates you, child," he answered in his 
deep voice. "Here, I'll take you inside with me." 

For the first time she noticed how beautifully 
dressed the stranger was. Then she realized; of 
course — he was the Prince! he took her inside 
with him and much to the amazement of the other 
guests, placed her beside him at the table. 

"But your Highness," protested Martha, "she's 
only a .... " 

"She's one of my children," the Prince inter- 
rupted gravely. 

"Yes, Your Highness," replied Martha, giving 
a jealous glance at Marya. 

When the banquet was over, the Prince an- 
nounced that Marya was leaving with him. The 
rest were too astonished to make any objection. 
The Prince took her with him to his castle, where 
all his people welcomed her warmly. Marya was so 
happy she almost cried for joy. 

Many years have now passed, but the people of 
Fantasia still talk about the black-haired fairy who 
became the Chief Fairy Godmother, and always 
carried with her a beautiful silver-tipped wand. 

Barbara Kerr, VI A 



(From true life experiences) 

"Well, well, and what do you want to be when 
you grow up ?" 

How many times during your teens have you 
been asked that question? And unless you are very 
extraordinary I will wager that at least every 
month .you have given a different answer. I know 
my answers usually vary more often than that. 

My first ambition was to be a nurse. I could just 
see myself walking down the long corridors in a 
beautiful starched white uniform, efficiently helping 
doctors and occasionally falling "madly" in love 
with them. Let me tell you, one year of biology 
ended that little scheme! 

Within the next few months I chose two diamet- 
rically different professions. I was going to be a 
physicist. To begin with I couldn't even pronounce 
the word let alone visualize what it meant, and we 
hadn't yet begun to take either physics or chemistry 
at school. That didn't matter! I was going to split 
the atom into three parts instead of just two, (al- 
though I must confess that I didn't know what an 
atom was.) It was just at this time that I went to 
see my first real play. I was entranced. Needless to 
say I was going to be an actress. I read about the 
theatre, I talked about the theatre and I dreamed 
about the theatre. I even spent hours before a full- 
length mirror reading aloud and practising gestures. 

Then my brother left for the university to be- 
come a civil engineer. Of course I immediately 
wanted to become one too. Hadn't I been "chief 
cook and bottle-washer" for him when he had been 
running his electric trains all over the house? 
Hadn't I been "assistant number one" when he 
built bridges that could be raised and lowered at 
ninety-six different speeds, all with just a, three- 
speed motor and a fascinating thing called a gear 
box? Because it wouldn't be fail' for me to be a, 
civil engineer too, I was going to be an aeronau- 
tical engineer. (I couldn't pronounce (hat word 

I stuck to that for quite a while until one day at 
the table someone at the far end said in a low tone 
to the person next to her, "Has she still that crazy 
idea of being a woman engineer?" 

My pride was deeply hurt, and I was now cured 
of wanting to be an engineer. Still, if you take my 
advice you won't ask people what they are going 
to be until they are well out of high school. 

Eve Hargraft, VI A 


Of course we can all find countless different kinds 
of shoes. Designers never run out of ideas. Despite 
this, however, all shoes have something in common; 
they are bound to wear out. This of course gives 
the human race something in common too, because 
at sometime in our lives we are forced to go out 
and buy a new pair. For most of us this job turns 
up too often and perhaps we begin to wish we were 
Dutch. Then we could go out, cut down a tree and 
whittle ourselves a nice new pair of shoes, and it 
would be far less complicated than buying them in 
a store; ask any one who has had the experience 
and I'm sure she will agree. 

The greater part of North America seems to like 
making things as difficult as possible for the average 
person when it comes to buying a new pair of shoes. 
We see the streets lined with stores which we 
can supposedly enter, state the kind of shoes we 
wish, pay for them and leave. Sounds so simple 
doesn't it ? However, this is not the case. I think 
buying shoes is a major operation and there is far 
more to go through than meets the eye. 

There are many kinds of stores where we can 
acquire the long awaited pair of shoes. Of course 
the first thing that catches our eye is the sign, 
"SALE— ! 2 PRICE" on the front of the shoe store. 
We thoughtfully jingle the money in our pockets 
and thinking the Scotch blood in us is not so dor- 
mant after all, cross the street whistling "Ye Banks 
and Braes ..." 

Stepping inside the door, however, we lose our 
peace of mind as four or five salesmen and women 
bearing a marked resemblance to vultures, swoop 
down on us and tear all the sane thoughts and 
ideas on that new pair of shoes out of our heads. 
Before we have uttered a sound we are surrounded 
by an assortment of horrible looking shoes of all 
shapes, sizes and designs. Seeing the shoes snaps 
us back to reality, and we realize that the hover- 
ing clerks also have definite designs on us and 
our hard-earned money. 

Staggering to the street and cool air, we re- 
signedly start for a very exclusive store, and timidly 
push open the door. A portly gentleman wishes us 
"Good morning", begs us to be seated, and in- 
quires what we wish to see in a shoe. Our nerves 
relax; we relax; and some of the beaten spirit 
surges back. The gentleman returns with a lovely 
pair of shoes, precisely the style we were looking 
for. Smiling like a Cheshire cat we say we will 
take them and pay for them then. The final bomb- 
shell drops as we hear they arc twenty dollars. 



The cold realization sweeps over us, and some 
quick mental arithmetic tells us that a meagre 
ten cents for bus fare home will be the last of our 
hard-gotten wealth. Another look at the new shoes; 
another look at the old, and all the time a voice 
urges us on to the rash deed. With a sigh of res- 
ignation and doubt we give him the money. 

Once again out on the street we take a deep 
breath and look proudly down. Our new shoes 
wink back up at us. Without a doubt they are a 
good buy and we congratulate ourselves. Of course 
we never did save those few cents, but who minds ? 
After all, isn't it said, "Money is the root of all 

Jill Woods, Matric. 


(For evil capers of Comptonians) 

Special pill enabling one to absorb half a term's 
history (or biology or chemistry) in the space 
of fifteen minutes (at Break.) 

2. Special pulley from each bedroom so that one 
may obtain black stockings and oxfords from 
basement in a hurry before breakfast. 

3. Long handled periscope to look through the 
transom to see if there is a class in the form 
room. May also be used for seeing who is in the 

4. A machine for sewing name-tapes on at the rate 
of eight per minute. 

5. Inflatable dummies which may be blown up 
and placed in beds. Each must be equipped 
with a tiny voice box which answers roll-call 
as the flashlight is shone on it. 

6. Warning buzzer installed in each room to sound 
as you enter if a so-called friend is hiding under 
the bed, behind the door, or in the cupboard. 

7. Automatic window opener and closer which 
may be operated from bed on chilly winter 

8. Small device which can be carried in pocket 
and which automatically records number of 
minuses a girl receives from Saturday to Sat- 
urday. (No need of such a device for plusses.) 

9. Small plastic-lined bag fitting down tunic front 
for undesirable foodstuffs. 

0. Small make-up kit especially adapted for mak- 
ing pupil look healthy or unhealthy according 
to the situation arising. 

Diana Daniels, Matric. 

-|:ifft.M. s.6 

li.-oow.ri. C£. 


b:oO -P.M. <kf-. 



IT Ai 





A.M. «* 

l i:M-y/».n. ex 




The sea ... . surging 
Billowing, lighting, 
For strength unattainable 

The sea .... groaning 
Painfully, helplessly 
On granite . . . 

The sea ... . powerful, 

Dangerous, frightening, 
Unknown to many .... 

The sea .... chanting, 
Humming, shouting, 
Wishing attention .... 





The sea ... . Madonna 

Of men, strange, 
Unfathomable .... 

The sea ... . God's cruel creation 

No Divine Son for it ... . 
Now .... not for us, .... 

The sea ... . growling, lessening, 

Tearing, building, stays 
The same but Life .... 

The sea .... respected, 
Charted, coursed, 

New yet old .... not so life. 

Judy St. George, Matric 


Have you ever thought how delightfully simple 
and concise is the name Smith ? There are abso- 
lutely no spelling or pronunciation complications 
attached to it, unless perhaps to those Smiths who 
become inspired by originality and change the i to 
y and add a final e, constructing a new Smythe, 
which proves only a frustration to sales clerks who 
mumble over its pronunciation and fumble over its 
spelling and then finally drive its owners to distrac- 
tion! But with this exception, the name Smith is 
beyond a doubt universally the most sensible and 
simple "name of names!" 

Smith is a name accepted by all nations. There 
are Smiths not only in Great Britain, but there are 

Smiths in the United States, in Canada, and in 
South America. Who has not heard of a Made- 
moiselle Smith in France and a Fraulein Schmitt 
in Holland, in Germany, and in Denmark ? There 
is even a Senorita Smith in Italy. Who knows but 
that many of those gaily-painted, grass-skirted 
savages of Africa are surnamed Smith ? For there 
is a Smith in every village, a Smith in every town, 
one in every city, and one on every continent. 

The name of Smith is founded upon a rock. Be- 
fore anyone scoffs at it let him make a careful check 
of his family tree far back to the days of Adam and 
Eve, because many believe that that delightful 
couple were surnamed Smith! It could easily be, 
for Smith has borne the mark of the ages and passed 
from generation to generation until we have it still 
in this age of screeching jets and atom bombs. It is 
owned by people of all occupations, who have in- 
herited it from the goldsmiths, the silversmiths, 
and the blacksmiths of the Mediaeval days of long- 
gowns and fluttering fans. The name is as old as the 

Many are the famous people each of whom has 
been called the "Smith of Smiths." There is Adam 
Smith who died in 1790 and brought himself fame 
by his work, The Wealth of Nations. He was a 
professor of logic, a moral philosopher, a doctor of 
laws, a political economist, and a scientist. Another, 
Alexander Smith, died in 1867 after distinguishing 
himself as a Scottish poet. Alfred Emmanuel Smith, 
who died in 1944, was a famed American politician. 
Among the ladies, Charlotte Smith, the English 
novelist and poet, is best remembered by her charm- 
ing poems for children. She had twelve of her own. 
Andrew Jackson Smith, Edmund Kirby Smith, and 
Charles Ferguson Smith distinguished themselves 
as soldiers and generals in their day. Sir George 
Adam Smith was a Scottish divine born in Cal- 
cutta in 1856; Gerrit Smith was an American re- 
former and philanthropist born in Utica. John 
Smith, an Englishman, was the best known of the 
early settlers in Virginia in 1007. It would take a 
whole volume of the Encyclopaedia Britannica to 
recount the lives and achievements of the many 
"Smiths of Smiths." 

The name, so simple and concise, belongs then to 
people of every race and nationality in every cor- 
ner of the globe, to people of every occupation from 
grave-diggers to admirals. Though so many people 
are named Smith we have seen that there is quality 
in this mass production! 

Diane Smith, Matric. 




The crisp sunshine of an autumn day shone upon 
a boy who was sitting in a wheel-chair on the inner 
edge of a busy city sidewalk. The sunshine liked 
the look of this boy, and it bounced delicately from 
the dirty pavement to stroke his body with warm, 
gentle fingers. Finding no response to its mood in 
his bitterness, however, it slipped lightly over to 
a small girl who was passing with her mother, and 
who looked as if she might have some laughter to 
spare. The boy was left alone. 

Michael was used to being alone. For most of his 
life he could not remember being otherwise. People 
who couldn't be bothered with him because he was 
crippled had been slipping away from him on some 
pretence or other just as the sunlight had, ever 
since he had been condemned by polio to the now- 
battered wheel-chair, which he hated with all his 
strength. Poverty didn't exactly help one to make 
friends, either, he reflected, twisting the few pencils 
he held in his slim hands with the desire to hurt 
something other than himself for a change. The 
gesture only bruised his fingers. How he woidd love 
to be able to aim a hard kick at the worn cap which 
lay at his feet with two worn nickles gleaming dully 
in its folds. Slow-moving traffic rattled loudly over 
the street in front of him, and a slight wind sprang 
up from nowhere to blow the hot smell of engines 
away from the corner where he sat. He sighed and 
wondered how long he would have to wait before 
his brother came to wheel him and his miserable 
earnings home to a scanty supper. 

It was then that a man stepped out of the crowd 
and stood before him fingering some coins. Michael 
had long since lost the enjoyment he had once 
found in seeing people go by. He had decided that 
they were all alike — or nearly — and ceased to watch 
them as they hurried on their way. In spite of the 
fact that he was so out of practice he could not help 
noticing that the person who now addressed him 
was tall and slender, with grey temples, and a blue- 
veined hand that shook as he held out a five-cent 

"May I buy a green pencil, please ?" he inquired, 
and a smile played about his mouth and the corners 
of his eyes in answer to the one Michael grudgingly 
forced to his own lips. The coin dropped without 
a sound into the wornout cap on the pavement as 
the man took his purchase and turned away. 

Michael suddenly knew that he had to keep the 
stranger near him for a while longer, because in the 
man's smile had been something ambiguous and 

fathomless that would be invaluable to a crippled 
boy if only he could find it. 

He hesitated only a moment before he raised 
his head and said loudly, "Thank you, sir." 

The few seconds before the man turned around 
hung in space like an eternity that Michael knew 
he could never forget. He would always remember, 
too, the way the slow smile seemed to light up the 
stranger's whole face and the deep tones in hi voice 
as he said, "You're welcome." Michael thought 
about those words for a long instant, because every- 
one else had always said, "Thank you" in answer 
to his polite remark. Why should this stranger be 
so different — even in his choice of words — from 
the rest of the world ? It was all a part of what 
Michael was looking for, and he knew that he must 
move carefully, lest in his desire to discover he 
should lose all the knowledge he had already built 

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" he said carefully, 
watching the man narrowly as he spoke. 

"Yes", said the .stranger gently, with no hint of 
impatience in his voice. "Yes, it's a very nice day." 

Michael thought that he had never felt such cu- 
riosity, although it was more than mere inquisi- 
tiveness. It was a longing, a necessity, and he was 
hungry for the answer to his unspoken question as 
he had never been hungry for food. But what could 
he say ? How could he ask the stranger what it was 
that gave him the power to smile the way he did, 
to speak even the most common pleasantries as 
though each word hid a well-loved secret, and to 
touch things with a lingering touch that was almost 
a caress ? Michael decided then that he could ask 
no one to teach him that, especially not the man 
who now stood before him. 

He said lightly, "Can you tell me the time?" 

"Certainly," said the man without looking at 
his watch — in fact, Michael saw that he was not 
wearing one. 

"It's half past four, I think." 

"How do you know?" The words came so easily 
they might have spoken themselves, and Michael 
found himself waiting, strangely eager, for the 

"The warmth of the sun, the position of the 
wind, and the street noises told me. I am blind," 
the man added quietly, and he turned from Michael 
with a swift movement which was so unlike his 
other gestures that Michael felt suddenly afraid 
of what he had done. 



"I'm .sorry," he said, more to himself than to the 
stranger. Without looking at Michael the man 
began to speak — slowly at first, then swiftly and 

The words he spoke were these: "A minute ago 
you wanted to know about me more than you 
wanted to know anything else in the world, but 
now you don't care whether I teach you how to be 
happy or not. You, as a crippled boy, should know 
how to love the world and its people as though you 
were not a part of it and them. You can never 
really be part of the world again, and the hardest 
thing that will ever be required of you is that you 
accept this as a fact. Then you must build for your- 
self a life outside the world — a life made up of 
things that are not really yours, yet that belong to 
you more than to their legal owners. I see you don't 
understand me. Well, take a star as an example. I 
myself cannot see a star, but I know that it is there; 
and for me it has a greater beauty, a more poetic 
significance than for someone who can see it all 
the time and comes to take it for granted. Do you 
understand now?" 

"Yes," breathed Michael. "Please go on." 
If you can build yourself such a life you will find 
that you can love the song of a bird — although it 
will fill you with sadness; the feel of the wind 
against your body — although it will make you want 
to run; and even another person's prayer — although, 
of course, you have your own. For some reason or 
other — I think perhaps it is pity, which is a wonder- 
ful quality in its place — people are too ready to 
share their lives with someone who is handicapped. 
They don't realize that even unconsciously we 
would rather make a dream for ourselves — though 
it can be only half a dream — than become parasites 
with no more self-respect than the actual insect, by 
accepting and taking advantage of their offer. This 
is a lot for you to remember, and you don't have to 
remember it all, at that. I felt that you had to be 
told. You were feeling very bitter; I hope that now 
you will find yourself able to be really happy, if 
only occasionally." 

As the stranger spoke, Michael watched the nar- 
row back. The man was trying to stand perfectly 
still, caught in the drama he was placing before the 
boy, but now and then a tremor shook his frame — 
like the golden tremor of sunlight under water. 
Michael was a little surprised at what the stranger 
told him, hut not completely so. He had really 
known it forever, it seemed to him, but he had not 
dared to put it into words for himself. Now that he 
understood the man's secret — in fact, had it for his 

own—he was ashamed for his moment of indiffer- 
ence and wanted to make amends for it. 

"I will," he said quietly. 

The stranger walked away without turning a- 
round, and Michael saw that his step was firm and 
his hands— one of them holding the green pencil- 
swung carelessly at his sides. His head was up as 
though his sightless eyes were teaching him more 
ways to love the world which was not his. 

"I will," said Michael again. "I promise you I 
will; and oh, sir, thank you so much!" 

The crisp sunshine of an autumn day shone upon 
a boy who was sitting in a wheel-chair on the inner 
edge of a busy city sidewalk. The sunshine liked 
the look of this boy, and it bounced delicately from 
the dirty pavement to stroke his body with warm, 
gentle fingers. The boy smiled hesitantly; and be- 
cause it liked smiles — especially ones that were 
really genuine — the sunshine stayed. 

Susan Kilgour, VI A 


A golden chestnut stallion 

Of pure Arabian blood, 

Paused at the edge of a ridge 

His white socks blemished with mud. 

Poised for a moment in silence, 

Then turning his head to the wind, 

Sensing an air of violence, 

His nostrils quivered and twitched. 

He looked towards the freedom 
Of the ever-rolling plain. 
The light breeze flicked and lingered 
As it rippled through his mane. 
His eyes were filled with hatred 
As he thought of all days flown, 
The days this land of freedom 
Had been granted as his own. 

Anne Dowie, V A 




On one of the barren, snow-covered strips of 
land in northern Labrador there stood a small 
wooden shack. Smoke curled out of the chimney 
showing signs of habitation. 

Inside this little building Tijo, an Eskimo boy, 
his small sister, and his Eskimo husky dog Kawla 
(an Eskimo word meaning "strength") lay stretched 
on the floor before the fire, listening to Tijo's 
mother tell an old fable. Suddenly the mother in- 
terrupted her story with a groan and lay back in 
her chair. 

Tijo rushed to her side. 

"It's my heart again, Tijo. I'm afraid that now 
you will have to get the fish for supper. If only 
your father were alive today," and her head dropped 
sadly, but came up again as she said, "but he isn't, 
and I can't go, so now it's up to you." 

Tijo grinned. "Really, Mom? You mean you'll 
let me go out and fish through the ice all alone at 

His mother hesitated as she looked out of the 
window and noticed that a stiff wind was blowing 
threateningly around the house. 

"I hate to let you do it, but you're the only one 
left. Your little sister is much too small and even 
to think of sending her is ridiculous." 

"Please, Mom? Please let me go", he implored. 

Finally she consented, as she was left with no 

"I'll be back soon, with a whole line of fish", 
Tijo promised as he went through the door, with 
Kawla bounding and barking at his heels. 

The two small figures trudged through the deep 
snow to the water's edge, guided only by the faint 
glimmer of the lantern which Tijo carried. As he 
hacked a hole in the ice with a small pick, Kawla 
stood by the lamp and guarded — from what, 
he did not know. The wind howled around their 
slight but sturdy bodies, making it difficult to stand 
upright without trouble. Finally the hole was large 
enough, and Tijo began to fish, with Kawla watch- 
ing every move his young master made. 

Having caught two fish and become rather cold 
and restless, Tijo changed his position around the 
edge of the hole quite often. His toes were now cold 
and so painful that he stood up and started to jump 

"Kawla, are you cold too?" Tijo asked the dog 
as he noticed the canine eyes had become rather 
worried looking. 

As if in answer, Kawla sprang up, started back 
to the bank and then returned to look up at Tijo 

"Oh!" the boy exclaimed. "I see; you want me 
to go home now! All right; just as soon as I catch 
one more fish." 

Suddenly there was a splintering sound and a 
splash. Kawla barked anxiously, and his eyes 
searched the darkness frantically for a glimpse of 
the boy he adored. Then another splash and a 
scream pierced the dead silence, and Kawla rec- 
ognized the voice as Tijo's. 

"Help, Kawla! Help me out!" Tijo gripped the 
side of the hole, only to have it break away in his 

The dog leaned his strong head over the edge and 
braced his feet. Tijo understood and grasped the 
great neck and pulled himself out. 

"Oh, Kawla," he sobbed, "I was so afraid." 
Then gathering his wits about him, he scrambled 
to his feet and stumbled back to the house. 

Later, in his cozy, warm bed, with his mother 
leaning anxiously over him, he whispered, "I got 
our supper, didn't I, Mom? Do you think Daddy 
would be proud ?" 

"Yes, my son, I'm sure he would", the soft sweet 
voice answered, and there was a tear shining 
brightly in her eye in the reflection of the fire. 

Judy Grtjchy, VI B 


Behind the cottage a small garden grew on dif- 
ferent levels of dull grey rock. At first glance it 
looked like a carefully patterned blanket, for deli- 
cate greenery wove a solid-looking background for 
the gay buds and blooms. Closer inspection re- 
vealed it to be as wild and free as if it were in the 
middle of a cool wood. Vines of pale pink trailing 
arbutus tumbled in small cascades from the top- 
most level to reach the flat earth below, and small 
violets seemed almost to laugh with glee as they 
popped out from between slabs of rock to catch the 
sunlight, On the ground before the lowest level were 
several patches of bronze marigolds and bachelors' 
buttons growing with a distinctive air. A bird's song 
filled the whole garden with throbbing, liquid notes 
as if the bird were determined to echo the careless 
delight it found there. 

Barbara Oliphant, VI A 




The sun beat down on the thatched roof of the 
little rondavel. Smoke curled upward through the 
chinks in the straw, and flies buzzed around the 
tiny doorway. The fields were quiet and the oxen 
stood under the trees lazily flicking their tails. 
From the distance the hum of a tractor floated 
back, and occasionally the crack of a whip came 
from the mealie field where the men were ploughing. 

Lataba stood leaning on the fence, thinking hard. 
"How boring," he thought. "Day after day the 
same — plough, clip sheep, pick mealies." 

At that moment his mother, Lena, came out of 
their hut. 


"Yes, my son ?" 

"I'm going to Johannesburg. Seph from the De 
Kouing farm has gone. I want to go too." 

The old woman stopped, her wrinkled face troub- 
led. She knew what would happen. So many times 
she had heard. The rich promises — streets lined 
with gold — hundreds of her people wandering 
jobless, homeless. 

"My son, here is your place. Those stories of the 
wickedness of the city are true." 

"Mother, I must go." 

Lataba gathered a few clothes in an old bag. On 
the train he wondered if it was true, the wickedness. 
It couldn't be. Johannesburg! The golden city! 

The train was passing a great dump. Dirty build- 
ings rose around them. There were no trees, no 
gardens now, just tiny smoke-blackened houses, 
factories, and the huge piles of what looked like 
sand. The train drew into the station and stopped. 
Lataba stepped gingerly off. It was so different. 
Around him were "city natives." The}' wore flashy 
clothes, not at all like those on the farm. Lataba 
thought of his home with a pang of homesickness, 
but then he straightened his shoulders and walked 
into the city. Soon he would be rich. He'd buy a car 
and take it back to the farm. The others would be 
envious. They'd see that he'd been right. 

He found a little room in a big boarding-house. 
It was small and dirty. Then he went to look for 
a job. 

At the first mine the foreman said, "Oh no. Not 
another. Sorry." 

Finally he found work. With several others he 
had to pull carts of ore up a hill. Lataba realized 
that his fellow workmen were not happy. They 
wore a hunted, desperate look. 

"With me it will be different, though," he told 

But the dream was fading. Days passed. The air 
was never fresh and cool. The sun burned them but 
there was never any rest or any shade from a leafy 
tree. Lataba earned only two shillings a day, and 
his rent was six shillings a week. He had made 
friends with some other natives. One night they 
were grumbling. 

"We will go and rob that rich merchant. He has 
much money." 

Lataba was shocked. He had been taught by the 
priest, "Thou shalt not steal." The others urged 
him on. 

"Come on. We won't be caught. We do it all the 

They went out into the street. Lataba lagged 
behind. Suddenly he began to run. He heard their 
jeering laughter and insults. He ran and got what 
little money he had in his room. The station was 
far, but he kept on. There was a train to Bloemstadt 
at midnight. He waited. 

"This isn't for me," he said. "The stories were 
true. It is wicked and there is no gold." 

Next morning on the train his heart was glad as 
he saw the fields and flowers. The air was fresh; 
the sun shone clearly and beautifully. 

Life at the farm had gone on as usual without 
him. A gap had been left but the others had done 
his work. Lena was tired, but she never ceased to 
look up the long road each day. Then she saw him 
coming slowly, a cloud of dust at first, and then a 
faint shape. She ran, painfully and slowly, but she 

"At last," she panted, "at last." Then she lifted 
her eyes and gasped, "Thank you." 

Ann Ramsay, Matric. 


It was a cold and damp night 

When Napoleon got up to fight; 

Wolves he would challenge — one whole 

pack — 
With never a thought, of turning back. 
He went forward a little, then stood, 
Stopped to make sure he really could 
Challenge these hungry wild beasts 
Who were trying of him to make a feast. 
They whined and barked their savage cry 
But Napoleon was slowly creeping nigh. 
He dove, surprising, at their throats 
And the wolves they uttered their death- 
cry notes. 

Jane Mitchell, V A 




Eyes have always held a fascination for me, and 
have drawn my own to them in search of what lies 
beneath. For our eyes are two pools of information 
about ourselves, and every ripple of thought in our 
minds is featured there. Imagine a mass of faces 
without eyes! What expressionless blanks they 
would be, except for the quiver of a sensitive mouth 
or the setting of a firm chin; for it is to the eyes 
that we first look for character; it is there that our 
own eyes first drift when speaking to anyone, to 
decipher the speaker's true meaning. 

It is your eyes that reveal you to the world. Take, 
for example, a little boy saying good-bye to his 
mother before he trots off to school. On his face, 
uplifted to be kissed, is an expression of pure inno- 
cence, but in his eyes another story is told; there, 
a wicked little twinkle is revealed as he says to him- 
self, "How can I possibly slip out this morning and 
go fishing, for the fish are jumping perfectly ? Tom 
the gardner told me so." This revealing of ourselves 
continues throughout our lives, though as we grow 
older our faces show less expression, for we force 
on ourselves that artificial mask of tact. Our eyes, 
however, still betray us. There are the curious, 
prying eyes of the malicious, poking into other 
people's affairs, or there are the clear, intelligent 
eyes of great scholars. Then, sadly, one sometimes 
sees the sneaking, hole-in-tho-corner eyes of the 
hardened criminal. Best of all are the tender eyes 
of a mother putting her child to bed or the serene, 
oh, so happy light in the eyes of those in love. As 
we grow old, people will look into our eyes to see 
in what manner we have aged. There are several 
types of old people, especially old ladies, those 
whose eyes are busily exploring the world around 
them filled with smiles and good will for all, and 
those whose eyes are narrowed and prying, too 
quick in remarking the faults of others. If we wish, 
then, to be unfathomable, we must, throughout 
our lives carefully shroud our eyes. 

In literature, famous characters have been re- 
membered by their eyes. As we read of the (hill, 
blood-shot eyes of Uriah Heep we shudder and 
quickly turn the page, yet. with the shudder, his 
eyes arc imprinted on our memories. Again we re- 
member Agnes's eyes, soft, kind, and gentle— ever 
loving, never angry. In the pages of our history 
books we learn of many people, some merciful 
some cruel, but among the cruel no one has hor- 
rified us more than Richard III, who murdered Ins 
nephews in the Tower. Never had anyone doubted 
the truth of that story until one flay a man lying 

in bed with a broken back, by chance had a picture 
of Richard III by his bedside. As he did not know 
whose picture it was he began analyzing the face. 
He was especially struck by the eyes, by their 
courage, kindness, and their almost too-generous 
expression. Mentally he associated those eyes with 
a judge; you can imagine his horror when he turned 
the picture over and saw that it was of Richard 
III. With the memory of those eyes in his mind the 
invalid proved that the murderer of the Little 
Princes was not Richard III but Henry VII. As 
this story is told in fictional form perhaps histo- 
rians have not accepted its proof, but the writer of 
the novel is a historian and may well publish her 
findings supported by authenticated records. This 
story at least shows the importance of the eyes in 
judging character. 

Eyes, too, may affect our success in life. It is 
hard to overestimate the influence which Stalin's 
cold, calculating eyes had over those he intimidated 
and dominated. Eyes, of a different kind, are im- 
portant for dentists, doctors and nurses. Which of 
them could inspire the confidence of patients with- 
out gentle, sympathetic eyes. A hard cruel eye 
would be enough to ruin any doctor's practice. 

We see that in many ways our eyes have an in- 
fluence upon our lives. They contribute to our 
success or failure; they draw friends or repel those 
whom we might wish as friends; they reveal our 
true characters. They are the feature that will be 
remembered long after we are gone. If you were 
born again, what kind of eyes would you choose? 

Ann Rawlings, Matric 


Matt, a huge lonely mongrel lived in, or rather 
wandered, the streets of a big town. 

"Why doesn't some young boy or girl take me 
lor a pet?" He asked himself wonderingly as he 
(rotted down the path that led to his favourite spot 
outside the bustling town. 

"All other dogs have masters," he sighed. "Maybe 
I am just meant to roam the streets." 

He had reached a cool swimming hole in the coun- 
try and with full zest plunged into the water. It 
felt good on such a warm day. Some boys who were 
swimming there jeered at him and threw stones, 
but he got across to Ids favourite place in the woods' 
There he lay and watched the boys splashing and 
playing in the pool. 



To-day, as Matt watched the boys from his fa- 
vourite spot, he noticed a young boy swimming to- 
wards him. Something was very wrong. Didn't he 
know that the pool was deepest here with a tangled 
mass of weeds that once you were caught in could 
drag you down ? 

With a low growl Matt sprang up barking a 
warning. But too late! The boy was already strug- 
gling with his feet as they became entangled in 
the weeds. 

Matt plunged in after him, and swam strongly to 
the boy, every stroke bringing him closer. On reach- 
ing him, Matt tried to grab the boy's trunks. The 
boy in turn took hold of Matt's ruff and together 
they pulled earnestly, water almost choking and 
blinding them, until help came from the boy's play- 

All Matt could remember was someone hoisting 
him up on shore; then he awoke finding himself 
wrapped in a warm blanket and being fed by the 
boy he had saved. 

"You saved my life, Matt; Matt, how do you 
like your new name and your new home?" the 
boy's voice asked. 

All that Matt could muster was a deep sigh of 
satisfaction as he fell contentedly asleep. 

Gillian Bastian, V A 


'Twas the night before holidays and all through the 

Not a human was stirring, not even a fool ; 
The scholars they lay all snug in their beds 

While visions of holidays dashed through their 
Our "navies" were hung in the cupboards with care 

In hopes that morning soon would be there. 
Then out in the hall we heard the bell ; 

We jumped from our beds as if under a spell. 
There in each room of K.H.C. 

Happy girls were leaping about in glee, 
And when we were dressed, we ran from our rooms 

Crying, "Bye Mary, bye Tony, bye — see you 
"Bye Linda, bye Anne, bye Judy, bye Fran!" 

Down the stairs we went with a clatter and clang, 
Good-bye to Miss Gillard; we were off like a bang! 

And soon in the halls of dear K.H.C. 
There was heard not one soul — not even a VI B. 

Anne Holton, VI B 


"Hola, Carlos!" 

"Shhh! Fernando nos pudiera oil'." 

Fernando era un gran gato negro, con pelo bril- 
loso y con ojos relucientes, quien queria devorar 
dos pequenos ratones que se llamaban Carlos y 

Carlos y Francisco anduvieron silenciosamente 
desde su agujero a traves de la alfombra en la sala 
y comenzaron a cruzar el piso lustroso de madera 
en el comedor. 

"Ooopa!" Francisco exclamo, "este suelo es muy 

Carlos lo miro y le dijo enfadadamente, "Shhh, 1 , 
Quieres despertar a Fernando y quieres que te 
devore ?" 

Ellos anduvieron por el comedor y entraron en 
la cocina. 

"a Como podemos subir a la mesa?" Se dijeron 
el uno al otro. 

Ellos pensaron y pensaron, y de pronto Carlos 
grito, "Tengo una idea!" 

El fue a la tabla para jabonar que se apoyaba 
contra el radiator y lo trepo con Francisco sigui- 

Ellos fueron a traves de una silla y saltaron en 
la mesa. Luego se deslisaron a cerca del plato de 
queso. Quitaron la tapadera y se subieron en el 
plato donde estaba el queso. 

El queso se veia muy bueno y no estaban satis- 
fechos hasta que el plato estaba vacio. Despues se 
sentaron muy felices y estaban en la gloria. 

"Mian!" murmuro Fernando. 

"Caramba!" exclamaron juntos, "Hay sola- 
mente una cosa (pie podemos hacer." 

Ellos empujaron el plato sobre la cabeza de Fer- 
nando y huyeron a traves de la mesa, de la silla, y 
del radiator y se bajaron de la tabla para jabonar. 

"Whee! Ay!" ellos exclamaron y se cayeron al 
suelo con un gran ruido. 

"Fernando viene! Apresuremonos!" 

Ellos corrieron a traves del suelo del comedor, 
a traves de la suelo alfombra en la sala, y llegaron 
seguros a su agujero. 

"Miau", murmuro Fernando delante de su 

El se puso la nariz en el agujero y, juntos, Carlos 
y Francisco halaron los bigotes del gato y cantaron: 
"Gatito, Gatito, vete. 
Tu no eres agradable." 

Suzanne Schneider, VI A 




It could have been the soft drink or the "das- 
wood" sandwich that I had consumed before bed. 
It could have been the gripping murder story that 
I had been listening to. It, could have been the 
effect of any number of things, but — maybe you 
should judge for yourself. 

A dirty, mud-bespattered little urchin toddled 
down the empty street of a deserted town. The 
gray shells of ruined houses loomed through the 
mist. The streets were piled high with rocks and 
the ruins of houses, and they were lined with bodies, 
people that only yesterday had been living nor- 
mally, if fearfully. Then had come the planes, the 
air raid sirens, the terror, the cries and screams of 
the women and children as they thronged towards 
the shelters, some reaching their destinations and 
some not. Then came the bombs and then this. 

The child's thin, piercing cries resounded through 
the devastated streets — cries that struck to the 
marrow of one's bones — cries of hunger, of fear, of 
utter desolation. "Mama, Mama, Dada, Dada." 
His little blistered feet padded among the ruins 
trying to find food, trying to find someone, anyone. 

Overhead a plane roared through the mist. Little 
Paul capped his small, dirty hands over his ears 
and lifted his tear-streaked face to the sky. 

"Ma-ma," he sobbed, "I hungwy; Paul hungwy." 
Suddenly he tripped and fell and lay on the ground 
without moving. His little body was fast losing 
what strength it had ever possessed and now as he 
struggled to his feet, Paid had a large gash down 
one side of his face. The little tot fumbled his way 
falteringly to the road and then with a little cry, 
crumpled to the ground, a sobbing ball of misery. 

In the distance, the roar of an engine sounded, 
coming closer and closer. In a moment a jeep clat- 
tered around the corner and down the street. 

"Hey, Joe, pull up, will-ya", shouted one of the 
occupants of the vehicle. 

The car screeched to a stop, and a kahki-clad 
soldier leaped out. He leant down beside little Paul 
and felt the tot's pulse; then he lifted up the little 
boy and looked at him for a minute. 

"Poor little kid", he muttered. And tears formed 
in his eyes as he thought of another little boy about 
the same age, across the ocean who was very dear 
to him. The soldier gently pushed the blonde hair 
from Paul's forehead and wiped the blood from his 
cut; then laid him softly down on a patch of grass. 
He climbed quietly back into the jeep and it roared 
off into the distance, pursued by a cloud of dust. 

I awoke from my dream, tears streaming from 

my eyes, and acting on a sudden impulse I tiptoed 
into the next room and looked fondly down on my 
small blonde brother, Paul. 

"Never!" I muttered in prayer as I climbed back 

illto bed - Cynthia Hutchins, VI B 


It was a crisp, sunny winter's day, but six-year- 
old Johnny was in a pensive mood which did not 
correspond with the day's gaiety. He was walking 
to the village with his mother to get the mail, a 
habit which they had acquired during the past six 
months. He clasped his mother's hand as he trudged 
along, deep in thought. How strange these past 
months had been with Daddy away! Six long 
months ago Daddy had gone to the hospital to 
have a very serious operation. Mummy had told 
Johnny to pray hard every night, and God would 
bring Daddy home soon. Daddy was better now, 
but God had still not brought him home. Every 
night, though, Johnny kept on climbing out of bed 
onto the cold floor to pray that Daddy would be 
back in time for Christmas. 

Now the house seemed empty and an important 
part of Johnny's life was missing. Johnny could not 
sit in Daddy's lap now to steer the car "on the quiet 
roads" as Daddy said. He missed walking down 
the street with his hand buried in Daddy's strong 
one. He was so proud of himself when he was seen 
with such a strong, tall man every evening. At six 
o'clock Johnny still listened for the sound of the 
tires crunching up the driveway, the front door 
banging open, and the cheery "Anyone home?" 
Then Johnny missed dashing downstairs into 
Daddy's arms and excitedly searching the paper 
bags to see if there was a surprise for him. 

Johnny heaved a pensive sigh when he and his 
mother arrived at the post office. His mother looked 
at him enquiringly. 

"I'll wait here while you get the mail, Mum." 

His mother let go of his hand and walked ahead. 
Even Mummy's walk wasn't happy; it was slow 
and her shoulders slumped. Johnny had often 
prayed that Mummy might walk as daintily as she 
used to do, with her head held as high. 

In a minute the post-office door banged open and 
oid came Mummy, dashing down the path, her 
hair (lying; she was running as fast as she could. 
Her eyes sparkled and her whole face was aglow 
with happiness. 

"Johnny!" she cried. "Johnny! It's a letter from 
Daddy! He's coming home .... to-morrow!" 

Deirdre Allan, Matric. 




I have been asked to write for the Magazine from 
England an article about my impressions of an 
English boarding school. I am afraid I do not feel 
very well qualified for the task as I have no com- 
parison to make with any school other than the one 
I am in, and therefore may exaggerate little things. 
However I shall do my best, and try to describe 
my impressions as they come. 

The people at the school are extremely interest- 
ing, very varied, and on the whole thoroughly nice. 
There is no atmosphere of conformity, and those 
who imitate others in any significant way arc rather 
scorned. Individual talents, tastes, and character- 
istics are encouraged and anyone who is "different" 
in any way, provided it is not a nasty one, is gen- 
erally looked up to — but not imitated. The girls 
vary from a strong-tempered, easily-roused Irish 
girl who is extremely musical and is on the verge 
of composing a symphony (she has already com- 
posed endless shorter pieces) to an extremely quiet, 
observant girl, whose dearest wish is to be an al- 
moner. There are about fifteen Turkish girls in the 
school, all very nice, and several French ones. This 
shows that there are "all sorts, shapes, and sizes" 
living in a community where everyone is expected 
to hold the strength and courage of her convictions. 
This has many happy effects, among them being 
a possible kindred spirit for any girl who goes to 
the school, and yet a spirit different enough to 
broaden her horizon and outlook. 

One of the things I like are the recreations pro- 
vided, or rather made possible. We have ballroom 
dancing among ourselves on Saturday night, with 
expert tuition on Thursday evening if it is desired. 
There is always some sort of musical entertainment 
in the making. At the moment we are doing "Trial 
by Jury." The school is very keen on music in gen- 
eral, and those who belong to Music Club go to 
concerts performed in Cranbrooke — usually four 
a year. There are several other enjoyable clubs in- 
cluding Poetry Society, which is great fun, Debat- 
ing Society, and Dramatic Society. All these pro- 
vide much amusing entertainment. 

The timetable I do not find very accommodat- 
ing. You are expected to do about the same amount 
of work as at King's Hall in frequently a little over 
half the time, and this includes any spare periods 
you happen to have. I find I am more than a little 
rushed. The system of rules and punishments 
seemed veiw odd at first. The School does not 

give very much liberty to the exercising of your 
own delicacy, nor do they trust you to behave well. 
They encourage individual taste in books and so 
forth, but let you take no responsibility for be- 
haviour. However, I suppose it is understandable 
with a crowd of girls, but I cannot help feeling that 
a little more liberty plus a little more guidance 
would be beneficial. I also wish the Principal had 
more direct contact with the girls. She never talks 
to them except as a specialty at the end of term; 
it is all done through a mediator. "Miss .... says 
.... The punishments include "bad marks", 
but no "good" ones. In other words there are mi- 
nuses but no plusses. The only way to cancel a "bad 
mark" is to have several clear weeks following it. 
There is no doubt this system helps to decrease the 
number of "bad marks." One House of forty girls, 
for instance, had only nine "bad marks" one week. 
Some of the other rules I do not care for, but I 
expect they have all been made for a good reason. 

The "pros" decidedly outweight the "cons." I 
find it generally a good, wholesome school, with a 
pervadingly pleasant, healthy atmosphere. I feel 
that here is a place where one can learn well of the 
academic side of education as well as of the other 
side. Here one can develop and improve one's taste 
with the aid of both teachers and girls, and all this 
with no small advantage and comfort to oneself. 

Philippa LIarverson, 
Lillesden School, 

Hawkeshurst, Kent. 





"I'll rare you to Laughing Brook", suggested my 
twin pie-bald pony brother, Tally. 

"Okay!" I agreed. "But don't go through the 
woods. We promised we wouldn't", I reminded 

"Oh, Mummy won't find out. Come on. Let's go 
that way!" 

Tally was no goodie-goodie; there was no doubt 
about that. 

"Last one there's a big slow-poke!" I laughed as 
we galloped off. 

The gallop was a fine. one. The wind blew through 
our mussy manes. The sweet-smelling clover met 
our noses and there were many tall fences and 
bushes to jump. It couldn't have been better. 

When I came to the forbidden forest, I didn't 
stop to see whether Tally had taken this route. 
I was going to, so I did! It was refreshing in the 
shady area, but I felt relieved when I was out of 
the dark eerie woods and into the sunlight. 

"Ha! ha!" I panted to the brook as I flopped by 
the bank. "I'm here first!" Lapping the cool fresh 
water, I waited for Tally. 

After I had splashed in the brook, chased a big- 
fat water-mole into its hole, and rolled in the grass, 
I began to wonder about Tally. 

"I bet he's hiding in the forest, the naughty 
thing!" I tried to encourage myself. I felt a hit of 
responsibility for my weaker brother. 

I galloped off towards the forest with a mischie- 
vous quirk inside me. 

"I see you, Tally!" I laughed, pretending to find 
him and expecting him to jump out from behind a 
bush. But not a sound of Tally came. 

Suddenly a weak soft voice called my name. 
"Queenie! Queenie!" 

It was Tally. Something was wrong. "Where are 
you ? Answer me!" 

I walked quickly towards the voice. "Tally! 
what arc . . . . " 

Suddenly the ground gave away beneath me. 
I was falling, falling; nothing could stop me — 

I had fallen head-first into a huge, dark dungeon. 
My head hit something hard as I landed, and half 
conscious and half in a dream I called my brother. 

"Tally! Tally! are you all right?" 

The only reply was in the thumping of my head. 
In my mind I could see a band of hoys beating 
drums. The beating became louder and louder- 

then a piercing streak of pain rushed through my 
head; everything went black. 

I awoke to find myself curled up in a corner of 
the dungeon, with a glare of sunlight beaming 
through the hole in the top. This hole had been 
made by me as I became the guest of honour! I 
percieved now, that this was a bear trap, for many 
large pieces of deer meat lay on the floor to tempt 
a bear. 

Hunger gnawed at my stomach. Something told 
me that I had to get out of this dark place, but my 
brain wouldn't let me try to think. 

On the ground where I had slept was a small pool 
of blood. I stood wobbling on my legs a little, then 
I sank, as a red shadow darkened before my eyes, 
while the beat of many drums played in my ears. 
I fell into a deep sleep again, and it wasn't until 
late that night that I awoke. 

I had a deep cut between the ears but after the 
dreamless sleep, I felt much better, though my 
hunger was worse than before and my mouth was 

A broken branch was standing against the dark 
Avail near my resting place. What good fortune! 
I nudged it with my shoulder and it made it 
possible for me to climb out. Many unsuccessful 
attempts were discouraging, but I finally made it. 
I lay panting on safe ground not knowing whether 
to laugh or cry for joy. Although I was weak from 
loss of blood, I felt like a different pony out of that 
horrible dungeon. 

I gathered myself together and started to look 
for Tally. I found him lying beside another bear- 
trap. How he got out was forever unanswered. 

"Tally," I whispered, "are you okay?" Seeing 
him lie there with his blood shot eyes looking into 
my tired ones, his bloody coat, and his right fore- 
leg mangled to bits was too much to bear. I tried 
to control myself, but it was impossible. I sobbed 
bitterly by his side. 

Tally spoke with a soft but brave voice, "Queenie, 
do you remember Papa's telling us that there's no 
sweeter place than heaven? I used to love home 
best, but now — well, I've changed my mind. I 
want to join Papa there now. I can hear the angels' 
harps playing soft music. I think Papa was lonely 
up there so I am going to see him. Bye-bye Queenie! 
Please tell Mummy th . . that I . . . ." 

That was a day I could not forget, Not only 
were the sad experiences unforgettable, but that 
race to Laughing Brook was the most enjoyable 
gallop I had ever had. 

Cynthia Bailey, V A 




It was a Saturday afternoon when they decided 
to go hunting .... two small boys, Rickey and 
David. David was eight years old and Rickey was 
two years his senior. David had received a bow and 
arrow for his birthday, and Rickey, who had a 
great deal of influence over his mother, had suc- 
ceeded in coaxing a "John Corbet" space gun from 
her. With these weapons the two boys set out, 
dressed from head to foot in Indian suits. 

"Mom says I have to be in at four o'clock," re- 
marked the younger of the two as he hugged his 
tiny bow, and eyed a flock of starlings as they 
winged their way towards the city. 

"Oh .... golly, I wish I could fly like John Corbet. 
You know what? He can ev . . . ." 

"Noooooooooooo, who wants to fly? I'd rather 
be a big Indian chief and go "whhhhhh .... ahh . . . 
ahhhhh," cut in David, "and," he added, perhaps 
a little fearfully, "maybe even scalp a few people." 

The boys waded through the dense foliage of the 
woods, laughing and talking and trying to imitate 
the Indians as they had seen it done on television. 

Suddenly they stopped their silly chatter and 

"Whufff .... fff ... . whuff f." 

The boys dove onto their hands and knees and 
crept towards the sound. 

"Look!" cried David, "Look!" 

Rickey looked towards the spot where the other 
was pointing. There, before their astonished eyes 
sat a little brown bear cub, carefully licking some 
red ants from his stinging paws. 

"Golly," exclaimed David, "a .... " 
"Bear;" finished Rickey, "a real live bear." 
As the two warriors picked themselves up from 
the ground and cautiously approached the wide- 
eyed cub, they heard an angry growl from a clump 
of raspberry bushes at one side. The boys whirled 
around and to their surprise saAV an angry she-bear 
come charging out of the bushes, her mouth stained 
with berry juice and her eyes like two red demons 
of fire. 

It was lucky that they were standing beside a 
young maple tree, or they could not have escaped, 
no, not by a long shot. All weapons abandoned, 
they scrambled up the tree out of the reach of their 
pursuer's jaws. 

"Ohhhhh, was it ever lucky we played Indians 
. . . a . . . lot," panted Rickey as they nimbly 
climbed higher and higher. 

"Y . . y . . e . . s," was all the other could utter as 
he watched the maddened she-bear rip his bow and 
arrows to shreds.. 

But the bear was not to lie outwitted. With a 
terrifying snarl she grasped the slender sapling in 
her huge arms and began shaking it with as much 
vigour as she could. It was then, as the boys hugged 
the tree with all their might that they saw it .... a 
beautiful grey hornet's nest balanced precariously 
on a branch and swinging back and forth above the 
storming bear. Then .... Snap, buzzzzzzzzzzz .... 
zzzzzzz .... buz" All that the boys heard was a roar 
and a frightened squeal from the fleeing bears as 
they lumbered off through the underbrush, fol- 
lowed by a swarm of hornets. 

Yes. If it had not been for the hornet's nest the 
boys might not have lived to relate their adventure 
.... an adventure that left two bears in a mud hole 
and a colony of hornets without a home. 

Susan Blackburn, VI B 


When morning star glows dimly in the grey light 

of the dawn; 
When crimson flashes stretch across the sky; 
When dewy shadows shorten on the gently-tinted 

The world is mine, to have until I die. 

When early golden sunlight fills the newly risen 

When singing birds forever upward soar; 
When every corner of the earth seems lit by every 

The world is mine, now and forever more. 

When, centered in its zenith, gleaming orb high 

Proclaims the middle of a summer day; 
When rich and poor alike partake of mid-day meat 

and bread; 
The world is mine, to own in every way. 

When afternoon creeps slowly on to life; and time 

is spent 
In endless heat among still, shady trees; 
And when the drawn shadows then announce that- 
day is spent; 
The world is mine, to use as I may please. 

As silver evening cools the golden heat of dying day; 
And stars from liquid dark shine forth above; 
As cloak of velvet closes over memories of the clay ; 
The world is mine — to have, to use, to love. 

Susan Kilgour, VI A 




One summer morning Gus Gus, a small country 
mouse woke up in his match box bed. It was Mon- 
day, and his mother was busily doing the house 

"Mother," sighed Gus Gus, "Where could I find 
a big piece of cheese? I am so hungry." 

"Why don't you take a walk down the forest 
path to Petunia's house ? It is her birthday and 
maybe mother mouse gave her a piece of cheese 
for a present." 

Gus Gus quickly leapt out of bed and put on his 
best clothes. Before he ran out of the house, his 
mother called to him, "Gus Gus, be careful of 
Tiger, the cat. He is usually looking for something- 
good to eat this time of the morning." 

Gus Gus put on his red and yellow striped hat 
and hurriedly ran out of the hole. 

The hole was situated in the trunk of an old 
birch tree. There were chairs and tables made out 
of tulip stems and two match box beds. 

Gus Gus was now skipping happily down the 
forest path whistling away to himself. The sun 
was shining brightly this morning and as Gus Gus 
soon became very hot, he stopped to rest under an 
oak tree. As he was about to sit- on an acorn, he 
saw to his amazement a big piece of cheese on a 
blue platter. He couldn't believe his eyes. 

"I have never seen such a big piece of cheese in 
my life," he thought to himself. 

Gus Gusslowly crept over to the edge of the dish. 
He looked around to be sure no one whs watch- 
ing. Because no one was in sight, Gus Gus jumped 
onto the blue platter. 

"Where am I?" squeeked Gus fins. 

He had fallen into a pond of water and could 
neither swim nor keep himself above the water. 
Down, down, down he sank till he reached a soft- 
bed of leaves where he curled up to sleep for ever 
and ever. 

The big piece of cheese on the blue platter was 
not what Gus Gus thought it was, but do you know 
what- it was? Yes, you're right if was the blue sky 
and the big yellow sun's reflection on the calm 

Joanne Millar, V A 


One hot day in August I was sitting quietly, 
feeling the heat, and looking longingly at the cool, 
fresh water which lay invitingly in front of me. I 
decided that- since I had not yet learned to swim, 
a row in my new red rowboat would be the best 
thing for me to do. I soon carried out my idea, and, 
in a matter of minutes I was rowing along quite 
happily, bobbing up and down on the water. Before 
I knew what was happening, though, the bottom 
of the little boat was filled with water. At- first- I 
calmed myself with the thought that it was only 
some of the rain that had fallen the night before, 
but then as the water rose higher and higher my 
slight fear passed into terrible panic. Here I was out 
on a lake, not able to swim, and my boat was sink- 
ing. I stood up, soaking wet by now, and screamed 
"Help", until the word echoed and rang on the 
rocks, when suddenly bump — I was knocked flat in 
the boat. 

I have never heard the last of that incident, much 
to my shame, and sometimes I almost wish I 
had drowned, for wherever I go people seem to be 
laughing at the poor little girl who thought she was 
drowning in three feet of water. 

Elizabeth Napier, Yl B 


Boom! Boom! Boom! The muffled beat of the 
nearby native drums throbbed in the heat of the 
jungle night. My cars strained into the darkness, 
waiting, wailing, waiting. Would he ever come? 

Suddenly I heard the thud of approaching foot- 
steps. Instinctively my hand leapt- to the trigger of 
my rifle and I crouched down lower behind the 
gnarled tree trunk. 

"Who will it- be?" I thought. "Will it be Kali, 
(my safari guide) or will it be a murderous native 
tribesman thirsting for my blood?" 

The pounding footsteps drew nearer, and from 
around the bend staggered Kali, blood pouring 
from a wound in his shoulder. 

"Bwa-na!" he gasped as I stepped out to greet, 
him. "The tribe is coming. Flee, Bwana! Flee!" 

Down the frail I could hear the war cries of the 

"Get behind me, Kali. We will hold 'em off!" I 
ordered tersely. 



For what .seemed like hours we waited. All of a 
sudden they eame crashing around the bend. My 
gun cracked and echoed again. Kali slumped to the 
ground, a spear in his heart. Suddenly out of the 
darkness rose the massive figure of their High 
Priest. A silver dagger flashed in his upright hand. 
I raised my rifle and pulled the trigger. Click! 

"Gee, Sis, these Three D. movies are too real 
for me," quavered the voice of my younger sister. 

Nici Nelson, V A 

(With apologies to Walter de la Mere) 

"Is there anybody there?" said the checker, 

Knocking on the painted door; 

And her hand in the silence clamped upon the knob 

Of room nineteen's panelled door: 

And a loud noise echoed through the still room, 

And a squeak from the creaky bed: 

And she smote upon the door again a second time; 

"Is there anybody there?" she said. 

Then the door flew open to the checker; 

And the sight that met her eyes, 

Was a sight that only the devil 

And his angels alone could prize. 

It was on a Wednesday morning, 

And the beds were stripped and bare; 

Sheets, towels, and rugs lay on the floor, 

And even clothes were there. 

The girls in wild disorder 

Scurried around the room, 

Bustling here and hustling there, 

As they knew their impending doom. 

Then she said in a voice grim and stern 

To the girls who were full of dread, 

"You should know what time 1 come by now. 

That means minus five!" she said. 

Never the least stir made these roommates, 

As she checked their nails and hair, 

Then on to the cupboard and drawers 

And the confusion which she found there. 

She surveyed the dismal wreckage and said, 

"I expect this room to be tidy 

And as spotless and clean as can possibly be, 

When I come back on Friday!" 

Aye! They heard her footsteps go clown the hall, 

And saw a light that dimly shone, 

And heard the silence surge softly backward, 

When the sound of the footsteps had gone. 

Jane Douglas Lane, VI A 


He was a thickly-built man of medium height 
with a great stomach that he was forever patting 
with gnarled hands. He always seemed to be 
dressed in the same clothes . . . an old torn shirt, 
well-patched trousers held up by dingy braces that 
fell loosely over his shoulders, and over-large 
muddy boots. On the back of his head a wornout 
cap covered a bald spot. His face was usually 
wrinkled into a facinating grin which seemed proud 
to display his few teeth, but when this was relaxed 
his features assumed such an air of limp ferocity 
that a casual observer would feel a smile tugging 
at his own lips. He was never seen without his 
faithful dog at his heels. Whenever he spoke it 
was to tell intriguing tales of long ago. He moved 
with an attitude that betrayed his whole outlook 
towards life and the world ... a kind of easy-going 
alertness coupled with a determination to impress 
his ideas on others. 

Marcia Gibb-Carsley VI A 

^H a K>t. c f\i_t- FRoiA. Q^Stt-£>?5> 



funior Section 


One day as a mother and her little boy were 
walking down the street, they saw in the distance 
a castle. She told her little boy, James, that they 
had once lived in that castle when they had had 
lots of food and clothes. Then one day her husband 
had disappeared and was never seen again. 

When James was about thirteen he wanted a 
bicycle very much. His mother said that he would 
have to earn his own money, so he started to deliver 
newspapers. One day when he was delivering news- 
papers at the castle, he saw a man coming over the 
bridge. Suddenly the man slipped and fell into the 
water. By the time James got over the bridge the 
man was out of the water. 

The man felt in his pocket for his handkerchief, 
then he discovered that his pocketbook wasn't 
there and he said, "My pocketbook has gone; I 
must have lost it in the water." So James offered 
to get it for him. He dove into the water, and about 
the seventh time he got the pocketbook. Then the 
man asked him what he would like to have best of 
all, and James said he would like a bicycle. 

The man opened his pocketbook and James 
said, "But there is nothing in it!" The man said, 
"I know, but this is a magic pocketbook and I am 
the owner of this castle." The man uttered some 
magic words and a bicycle appeared. The boy 
thanked the man very much and rode off. 

The owner of the castle called after him, "Come 
here to tea this afternoon." When the boy went 
home, he told his mother all about it. With the 
money he had been saving for the bicycle he bought 
her some new clothes. When the time came to go 
to tea the boy rode on the bicycle with his mother 
on the handle bars. When they got to the castle 
they passed all the long rows of guards. Then they 
had tea. After tea the owner came in all dressed 
in his finest robes. 

Then he said to the mother, "Your husband is 
not dead, but he has been over in Africa doing 
something for me. Now you are going to live in 
this castle as you did once before." 

Virginia Echols, IV A 


He is strong, and by the sound of his footsteps 
I think he is heavy. His favourite pastime is pre- 
tending to be a ghost. 

Last night I awoke to the sound of a clink-clink- 
kity-clank. I saw a phosphorescent, gleam appear 
up the stairs. I snuggled more deeply into my 
covers. Then I heard strange sounds, moans, 
groans, and whistles. I thought I was dreaming, 
but I heard creaks, as if this terrible apparition 
were coming towards my bed. I was terrified, but 
seconds later the big grandfather clock struck 
twelve and I breathed a sigh of relief as footsteps 
echoed down the stairs. 

The clinking was a key chain, the light a flash- 
light, the groans, the wind, the creaks, the walls, 
and my ghost, the night watchman. 

Judy Bignell, V B 


Clara was a little girl of eight years old. She had 
blonde hair and big blue eyes and a face covered 
with little freckles. She was very pretty. 

One Saturday morning Clara felt like working 
so after breakfast she helped her mother put away 
the dishes and helped clean up the house. When she 
was finished and getting ready to go out to play, 
her mother called her and gave her a shiny little 
dime for helping in the house that morning. She 
was so happy that she danced around telling her 
mother what she would buy. Soon Clara was skipp- 
ing down the road toward the candy shop, and 
when she got there she saw a poor blind man with 
a little dog beside him. She looked at the box he 
was holding with a few pennies in it; then she looked 
down at the shop window with all the candy in it. 
Should she give her shiny dime to the poor man or 
buy some candy from the shop ? 

When Clara got home her mother asked her 
what kind of candy she bought in the candy shop 
and Clara said, "I gave the dime to a blind man 
and that's better than all the candy you can get in 
the world." 

Michele Robertson, IV B 




One of the most surprising surprises I have ever 
received was a small brown ball of shaggy fur. You 
may not have guessed it, but I am referring to .1. P. 
Phinias Puff ball. He is, to put it mildly, a mischie- 
vous koala bear. 

It was 1936. I was living then in a small-town 
hotel in Australia. That particular afternoon was 
hot; sticky hot. When I came in after a game of 
poker at which, I may add, I had gained quite a 
sum of money, I flung my jacket and cap on the 
bed, and rolled up my sleeves for a good scrub. 
Just as I was about to pick up the soap a fuzzy paw 
zoomed out and grabbed it. As I turned to see what 
it was, I received a blow in the face with an apple 
which, to my added distress, was rotten. I looked 
up and saw a little brown-grey koala bear with one 
hand fastened around the shower tap and the other 
clutching my soap. He began eating it as I moved 
towards him. The next instant a spray of hot water 
hit me. Then leap, bound, crash, and I was flat on 
my face clenching a handful of air. After several 
similar episodes, one black eye, a battered hotel 
bedroom, and a few other minor details, I caught 
my assailant. As he looked up at me I could have 
sworn that he was a completely different bear with 
his large blue eyes, a smile so innocent I imagined 
a halo over his fuzzy head, and a soapy paw patting 
my cheek. 

Mary Warren, V B 


Long ago people believed that on the thirty-first 
of October all the saints came down to earth, and 
they called it Hallowed Eve. People would not go 
out for fear the spirits would harm them. Today 
we call it Hallowe'en, and think of it as a time of 
fun. Most children dress up as skeletons, witches, 
cats, pumpkins, or ghosts. They go around and ask 
for charity. 

One year I was a spooky skeleton. The other 
girls were cats, witches, pumpkins or ghosts. We 
had a Hallowe'en party and we got prizes for the 
best costumes and my brother and I got one. After 
that we went out to all the houses to ask for candy. 
We collected it in laundry bags. My brother and I 
collected almost one laundry bag full. 

I enjoyed Hallowe'en very much. After that I 
went home and flopped into bed. 

Wendy Watson, IV A 


In the spring time every year, 
Nature's wonders will appear, 
The daffodils poke their pretty heads 
From their deep and earthy beds. 
Soon the violets will appear 
Everywhere to bring good cheer. 
Now the trees are showing green 
And everywhere small birds are seen. 

Jennifer Patton, IV A 


My story is about the two countries that I have 
lived in, Canada and Brazil. In Canada there is no 
danger when one goes outside the house in the day 
time, or if one plays outside, or goes for a walk. 
Around our homes we don't have high walls, and 
at night we don't have to bar the windows with 
hard wood or steel bars. 

If, by our misfortune, we have an accident and 
kill someone we go straight to the police station, 
and tell them. 

In Brazil, it is different. If by accident, you 
should kill someone, you just leave the dead body 
on the street and get out of the city as fast as you 
can. The police don't make you pay money or go 
to jail, but, if you went to them, you would have 
to go to jail and pay a large amount of money. 

All the houses have high walls around them and 
the doors and windows are barred. If a child goes 
out to play or goes for a walk outside he must have 
two servants with him. If you went outside the 
walls by yourself, you might be found, stabbed in 
the back, or your parents might never see you 

Of course, both countries have their advantages. 

Jareth Taylor, Y B 


A goblin stood near a tree, 
All dressed in velvet green was he. 
Dancing round were pixies three. 
Fairies dressed like flowers gay 
Had bells that tinkled all the way. 
Music sounded through the air, 
And there the Queen of the fairies sat 
Upon a throne of feathers fair. 

Jennifer Woods, IV A 




Our dog, Rags, was a mongrel but we loved him. 
His brown hair was thick and ragged so he didn't 
look very handsome, but we soon found out that he 
was really very friendly. 

We found him when he was a puppy, lying in a 
field with an injured leg, so we kept him until it 
healed. We had to let him go then because my aunt, 
who was staying with us, didn't like dogs, but 
everyone else was very sorry to have to part with 
him. He used to come back every day and wait at 
the door for hours, expecting to be fed, but Ave 
always had to turn him away. A month later we 
moved to Toronto and for a year we never saw a 
sign of Rags. 

One March morning, as I opened the door to 
bring in the milk, there stood Rags! We decided 
that after coming a hundred miles to find us, he 
deserved to stay with us, so we kept him ever since 
that day. 

Jennifer Lamplough, V B 


I am stranded on a desert island ! Oh ! What shall 
I do ? Perhaps there are wolves lurking behind me, 
perhaps there are cannibals coming to eat me, per- 
haps I will even be washed out to sea! Maybe some 
monkeys or gorillas are going to tear me apart, 
maybe a gaily plumed parrot will peck my eyes 
out, or even worse, an octopus come out of the 
ocean, or maybe my father will find me here! 

I suppose I had better go in now as I hear mother 
calling, but all the things that could happen to me 
on a desert island are better than what will happen 
when she finds I have broken the spare room 

Ruth Peverley, V B 


As I watch their dark black hooves 
Thud through the canyons bare, 
Down the rocky passes 
On to the valleys fair, 
I sometimes wonder why 
They fear a human cry 
For when we venture near 
They turn around and run, 
Their hooves shining in the sun. 


§s>tatt Mivtttovp 

Miss A. E. Gillard, King's Hall, Compton V Q 

Miss CI. Ainslie, King's Hall, Compton P q 

MlleO. Cailteux, King's Hall, Compton PQ 

Miss ./. ColUas, 41)13 Western Avenue, Westmount, P.O 

Mile A. A. Dumont, Box 12!), Campbell!,,,, N B 

Miss KDefries, 3535 Carleton Road, Montreal PQ 

Mrs. G. Elliot, Sawyerville, P.Q. 

Miss A. G. Gibb, King's Hall, Compton P(> 

Mrs. M. S. Gibb, King's Hall, Compton, p!q 

Miss D. Hewson, King's Mall, Compton P.O 

Miss H. Hughes, 614 Brunswick St., Fredericton, N.B 

Miss H. Jenkins, "Littlewood", Keppoch P E I 

MmeS. Landes, King's Mall, Compton Pq" 

Miss V ' K^M '\f 2 , T Phrey St " S -™P-ott, Mass. U.S.A 
Miss V. Keith, Bavelock, N.B 

Miss A. Macdonald, Port Hastings N S 

Mss F. A. MacLennan, 3 Dalhousie St Halifax NX 

Miss D. E. Wallace, Box -II, Warden P 

Miss D. Wood, lOakleigh Avenue, Halifax N.S. 




Statement of Receipts and Disbursements 
for the year ended February 28th, 1955 

Cash in bank, February Cash Held by King's Hall 

28th, 1954 $ 779.75 Inc., February 28th, 

1955 48.00 

Receipts n , . . , „ , 
a i Tv,r i i • r ,*. .-,,.,. ,w. Cash in bank, February 
Annua Membership fees % 366.00 1955 ' ; 5]5 9Q m QQ 

Receipts — teas and lun- 

R ch , eon t-', u rs v^m 

Bank interest 5.2/ 

Bond interest 96.00 ,, 

^ , , ,,. T , Miss Keyzer Fund 

Balance ol Miss Keyzer p 

fund transferred 34.70 6 19.27 

Subscriptions, less bank exchange $ 334.70 

$ 1,399.02 

Disbursements Disbursements 

Stationery, Stamps and Gift to Miss Keyzer $ 300.00 

Printing $ 107.50 Transferred to General 

Teas and Luncheons 132.75 Fund 34.70 f 334.70 

Magazines — King's Hall 

Inc 142.50 

Travelling Expenses 21.50 

Laura Joll Prize 10.00 Submitted with our report of April 5th, 1955. 

Gift to Miss Keyzer 250.00 Campbell, Glendinning and Dever, 

Sundry Expense 37.77 Chartered Accountants, 

Payment of balance of Auditors 

loan, King's Hall Inc. . . 133.04 $ 835.12 April 5th, 1955. 


Kitty Evens to Lieutenant H. T. Cocks May 14, 

Linda Ballantyne to Andrew Allan 

Judy Lindsey to Larry Durke January 7, 1955. 

Ann English to Anthony Anable, Jr., April 16, 

Linda Gordon to Alexander Barber 

Joan Parsons to Andrew Crosby. 

Sally Sharwood to Michael Drummond. 

Janet Fry to Ron Fortier. 

Naomi Smith to Tony Abbott. 

Eve Gordon to Hartland McDougall. 

Rosemary McKeen to John Price. 

Pam Smith to Harold Price. 

Priscilla Wanklyn to Grant Campbell. 

Anne Trenholme to John Gilmour. 

Joan Foster to Ian MacKinnon. 

Betty Gibb to Francio Donaldson. 

Joanne Hewson to Bob Staniforth. 

Molly White to Treat Arnold. 

Willa Ogilvie to Douglas Creighton. 

To Mr. and Mrs. Don Thompson (Barbara Robb) 
a daughter (second). 

To Mr. and Mrs. M. E. Nixon (Elizabeth John- 
son) a son, May 8. 

To Mr. and Mrs. John Lewis (Enid Mary Gra- 
ham) a daughter, March 27. 

To Mr. and Mrs. J. Stenhouse (Heather Mac- 
Iver) a son, April 8. 

To Mr. and Mrs. F. Stuart Large (Elizabeth 
Bradshaw) a daughter. 

To Mr. and Mrs. Robert Parker (Nancy Logan) 
a daughter, June 20, 1954. 

To Mr. and Mrs. David Robins (Joan Spafford) 
a daughter, December 21, 1954. 

To Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton Fish, Jr., (Julia 
Mackenzie) a daughter, June 24, 1954. 


Jean Dodds to Ralph George Kazi. 
Enid Gollet to Ronald McNeill. 




Leeds Girl's High School Magazine: Leeds, England. 

St. Andrew's College Review: St. Andrew's, Aurora, Ontario. 

Edgehill Review: Edgehill School, Windsor, N.S. 

Ludemas: Havergal College, Toronto, Out. 

Bishop Strachan School Magazine: Bishop Strachan School, Toronto, Ont. 

Lachute High School Annual: Lachute, P.Q. 

The Beaver Log: Miss Edgar's and Miss Cramp's School, Montreal, P.Q. 

The Tallow Dip: Netherwood, Rothesay, N.B. 

The Croftonian: Crofton House, Vancouver, B.C. 

The Branksome Slogan: Branksome Hall, Toronto, Ont. 

The Blue and White: Rothesay School, Rothesay, X.B. 

The Pibroch: Strathallan School, Hamilton, Ont. 

The Mitre: University of Bishop's College, Lennoxville, P.Q. 

The Bishop's College School Magazine: Bishop's College School, Lennoxville, P.Q. 

Technical Collegiate Institute: Saskatoon, Sask. 

Samara: Elmwood School, Ottawa, Ont. 

Intra Muros: St. Clement's School, Toronto, Ont. 

The Record: Trinity College School, Port Hope, Ont. 

The Ashburian: Ashhury College School, Ottawa, Ont. 

The Grove Chronicle: Lakefield, Out. 

The Almaphalian: Alma College, St. Thomas, Ont. 

The Balmoral Hall Magazine: Balmoral Hall, Winnipeg, Man. 

The Chronicle: The Study, Montreal, P.Q. 

The Alibi: Albeit College, Belleville, Out. 

<NeilmmV . we quality chococatb bars 



g>rt)ool ©trectorp 

T. Abbott, "Baywinds" Devonshire, Bermuda. 

D. Allan, 190 Senneville Road, Senneville, P.Q. 

E. Angus, 699 Aberdeen Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

P. Archibald, 672 Sydenham Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

E. Audet, 6 Veterans Blvd., Lake Megantic, P.Q. 

C. Bailey, 11 Newcourt Road, Bray, Co. Wicklow, Eire. 

G. Bastian, 17S0 Dumfries Road, Town of Mt. Royal, P.Q. 

A. Beattie, 14 Richelieu Road, Fort Chambly, P.Q. 

A. Bieler, 2151 Brulard, Sillery, P.Q. 

J. Bignell, 65 St. Anne Street, Quebec City, P.Q. 

H. Black, 217 Stanstead Avenue, Town of Mt. Royal, P.Q. 

S. Blackburn, 326 Victoria Street, London, Ontario. 
- S. Blaylock, Monk's Point, Be Bizard, P.Q. 
(Pf>- Bogert, Georgeville Street, Magog, P.Q. 

C. Chadwick, Lyme Road, Old Lyme, Connecticut. 

R. Christensen, 1509 Sherbrooke St. W., Montreal, P.Q. 

F. Church, 4 Summcrhill Terrace, Montreal 25, P.Q. 

J. Cochand, Chalet Oochand, St. Marguerite Station, P.Q. 

B. Cope, 13 Northcote Road, Hampstead, P.Q. 

J. Cordeau, 408 Metcalfe Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 
J. Cushing, 610 Clarke Avenue, Montreal 6, P.Q. 

B. CuthbeHson, 2285 Sunset Road, Town of Mt. Royal, P.Q. 
S. Cuthbertson, 2285 Sunset Road, Town of Mt. Royal, P.Q. 

D. Daniels, 1700 Macgregor Street, Montreal, P.Q. 

D. Dawe, Cupids, Conception Bay, Newfoundland. 
. J. de Kuyper, 591 Argyle Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

■' H. Dewar, "Pine Lodge", Lome Park, Ontario. 
J. Dick, 82 Ottawa Street, Arnprior, Ontario. 
L. Doucet, 3551 University Street, Montreal, P.Q. 
J. Douglas Lane, 31 Cedar Avenue, Pointe Claire, P.Q. 
A. Dowie, 2360 Delamere Drive, Cleveland Heights, Ohio. 

G. Eakin, 635 Carleton Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 
,.- S. Eakin, 736 Lexington Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

E. Echols, King's Hall, Compton, P.Q. 
V. Echols, King's Hall, Compton, P.Q. 

^B. Fellowes, 4854 Westmount Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 
R. Fitzgerald, 2 Bowling Green, Pointe Claire, P.Q. 
D. Fowler, 36 iSummit Circle, Westmount, P.Q. 
M. Gibb-Carsley, Como, P.Q. 

D. Gibson, Box 242, San Salvador, El Salvador, Central Am. 
G. Goodeve, 1001 MoncriefT Road, Town of Mt. Royal, P.Q. 
J. Grier, 14 Crescent Road, Ottawa, Ontario. 

L. Grier, 14 Cresent Road, Ottawa, Ontario. 

J. Gruchy, Station Road, Gratid Falls, Newfoundland. 

G. Hardinge, 1523 Summerhill Avenue, Montreal, P.Q. 

E. Hargraft, 184 Ontario Street, Cobourg, Ontario. 

F. Harley, 580 Dundas Street, London, Ontario. 

C. Harvie, 45 John Street, Thornhill, Ontario. 
A. Holton, R.R.I, Burlington, Ontario. 

C. Hudson, 174 Bromley Avenue, Moncton, N.B. 

C. Hutchins, 324 Pembroke St. E., Pembroke, Ontario. 

S. Huycke, 67 Glen Road, Toronto, Ontario. 

A. Melon, 1 100 Park Avenue, New York 28, N.Y. 
M. Ignatieff, Richmond, P.Q. 
N. Jackman, 3 Cluny Drive, Toronto, Ontario. 
P. Jackson, 1800 Macgregor Street, Montreal, P.Q. 
M. Jamieson, 12 Thurlow Road, Hampstead, P.Q. 
W. Johnston, Rosemere, P.Q. 

B. Keddie, 783 Upper Lansdowne Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 
S. Kelly, 5 Edmund Gate, Toronto, Ontario. 

B. Ker'r, 3990 Tecumseh Blvd., Windsor, Ontario. 
S. Kilgour, 2 Ellis Street, Beauharnois, P.Q. 
J. Kingston, 699 Acacia Avenue, Ottawa, Ontario. 
J. Lamplough, 61 Stratford Road, Hampstead, P.Q. 

C. Lyman, 3238 Cedar Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 
R. MacCulloch, "Oakwood" Bedford, Nova Scotia. 
J. Macdonald, Seofieldfown Road, Stamford, Conned icul 

D. MacDougall, 6035 Gouin Blvd., Saraguay, P.Q. 
H. MacDougall, 6080 Gouin Blvd., Saraguay, P.Q. 
M. MacDougall, 6095 Oouin Blvd., Saraguay, P. Q. 
M. Maclntyre, 220 First Street East, Cornwall, Ontario. 
J. Martin, 799 Upper Belmonl Avenue, Westmount PQ 
J. McColm, 2430 Noury, Sillery, P.Q. 
P. McFetrick, 91 Cedar Avenue, Pointe Claire, P.Q. 
S. Meagher, 2993 Cedar Avenue, Montreal, P.Q. 


E Menaschc 12 Rue Louis, Delos, Lille (Nord), France. 
J Millar, 948 Moncrieff Road, Town of Mt, Royal, P.Q. 
N. Milleii, 4409 Bruton Road, Cartierville, P.Q. 
J. Millwarcl, 497 Victoria Street, Sherbrooke, P.Q. 

A. Mitchell, Massawippi, P.Q. 
J. Mitchell, Massawippi, P.Q. 

R Moncel, Contril Lodge, Rockhffe Park, Ottawa, Ontario. 

B. Moore, '"Woodwind", Grand Falls, Newfoundland. 
H. Morris, 125 First Street East, Cornwall, Ontario. 

S. Morris,' 125 First Street East, Cornwall, Ontario. 

M. Mueller, 343, 9th Street, Shawinigan Falls, P.Q. 

L. Murray, % Price Bros Co. Ltd., Rimouski, P.Q. 

S. Myles, 42 Cressv Road, Hampstead, P.Q. 

E. Napier, 316 Russell Hill Road, Toronto, Ontario. 

N. Nelson, Buchans, Newfoundland. 

V. Nesbitt, 3243 Westmount Blvd., Westmount, P.Q. 

B. J. Newell, 4060 Marlowe Avenue, Montreal, P.Q. 
S. Newman, 3302 Cedar Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

C. Ogilvy, 338 Lake St. Louis Road, Ville de Lery, P.Q. 
/B. Oliphant, Hudson Heights, P.Q. 

J. Pacaud, Spring Hill Road, Magog, P.Q. 
' M. Pacaud, Spring Hill Road, Magog, P.Q. 

N. Palmer, 128 Blvd., St. Laurent, Donnacona, P.Q. 

J. Parsons, Pabodie Place, Little Compton, Rhode Island. 

P. Parsons, Pabodie Place, Little Compton, Rhode Island. 
ZA. Patton, 4308 Montrose Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

J. Perron, St. Marguerite Station, Co. Terrebonne, P.Q. 

R. Peverley, St. Andrew's East, P.Q. 

M. Powel, 2058 St. Louis Road, Sillery, P.Q. 

D. Powell, 1 Rosemount Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

E. Price, 1231 Wolfcsfield Avenue, Sillery, P.Q. 

L. Racine, 4655 Bonavista Avenue, Montreal, P.Q. 

A. Ramsay, 137 East 95th Street, New York City, N.Y. 

A. Rawlings, 1540 Summerhill Avenue, Montreal, P.Q. 

B. Reeves, R.R.I, Bath, Ontario. 

J. Robb, 32 Forden Avenue, Westmount, P.Q. 

M. Robertson, Sword and Anchor Inn, South Park St., Halifax, 

Nova Scotia, 
S. Robertson, Sword and Anchor Inn, South Park St., Halifax, 

Nova Scotia. 
L. Ronalds, Chantecler Hills Estate, Ste. Adele, P.Q. 
B. Rooney, 3455 Cote des Neiges, Montreal, P.Q. 

I. Schiess, Apartado 54, San Salvador, El Salvador, Central 

H. Schneider, 255 S. Van Pelt Street, Philadelphia 3 Perm 
/ S. Schneider 255 S. Van Pelt Street, Philadelphia 3, Perm. 
S. Scott, 53 Si. Augustine Street, Breakeyville, P.Q. 
A. Sise, 475 Argyle Avenue, Westmount," P.Q. 

A. Smith, Finca Panama, Estacion Guatalon, Guatemala 

Central America. 

D. Smith, 25 Ava Road, Foresl Hill Village, Toronto Ont 

E. Smith, 425 Maple Place, Ottawa, Ontario 

B. Starke, Cap ('hat, Co. Gaspe, P. (J. 
3. Stewart, 1519 Pine Avenue West, Montreal, P.Q. 

St. George, 1535 Summerhill Ave., Apt, 204, Montreal P Q 
A. laylor, 134 Dunvegan Road, Toronto, Ontario 
J. Taylor, 2-1 Blythdale Road, Toronto 12 Ontario 
S. Taylor, 415 Mount Pleasant Avenue, Westmount 
NL. Thompson, Parkside Drive, Bathurst, Ne 
S. Throsby, Lancaster, Ontario. 
A. Tinkler, 429 Second Street East, Cornwall, Ontario. 

II. iucker, 28 Windsor Avenue, Westmount PQ 
M Vaughan, 35 Donwoods Drive, Toronto 'Ontario 
J. Vivian, 6151 Cote St. Luc Road, Montreal P Q 
L. Wagner, 8611 Montgomery Avenue, Philadelphia 18 Pa 
V. Wagner, 8611 Montgomery Avenue, Philadelphia is' P a 
S. Ward, Junction Road, Brookfield Centre Con. 
M. Warren, 51 Markland Street, Hamilton, 
M. Waller, 1650 George Street Slvuvi 
W. Watson, 4920 Clanarald Avenue 
L. Weir, "High Rising", R.R 
W. Whitehead, 3011 Cedar Avenue 
L. Wilson, 3303 Cedar Ave: 

'!' w '"f ' ^n 5 l> SlK ' r,,, ' ook, ' Street - Montreal, P.Q. 
J. Woods, 580 Prospect Road, Ottawa, Ontario 




.'inigan Falls, P.Q. 
Montreal, P.Q. 
Ridgeville, Ontario. 
Montreal, P.Q. 
Westmount, P.Q. 



^English Antiques 

Every piece stamped and guaranteed 
to be over 100 years old by the 
British Antique Dealers' Association. 



Established 1866 

With the Compliments of 





MacCulloch Building Products 





You, too, can build for security 
and comfort tomorrow . . . open your 
B of M savings account today. 

Bank of Montreal 

Canada's First Bank 

10 1 miiion awuM 

Compliments of 



Barristers and Solicitors 







Compliments of 

Lunham & Moore Shipping Limited 



J. D. Martin, C. A. Bignell, 

Vice-President President 

H. B. Bignell & Son Limited 


2-4086 - - 2-4087 


Oh Henry/ 

Nut Milk 

they're Cracker Jack's 




Service Agencies Limited 




Room 1303, York Street 

Telephones EM 6-3581-2-3 



Morgan's century-old tree is now 
putting forth new, young branches . 
a spreading family tree serving 
growing Canadian populations. 

* Watch for the opening of 
our Lawrence Plaza store 
in Toronto this year. 


You Are Sure of Quality at Morgan's — Call PL 6261 

Compliments of 


1061 St. Alexander Street 
Montreal, Que. 

Compliments of 

Dominion & Anglo Investment 


Compliments of 


Telephone LO 2-0385 

16 Wellington N. Sherbrooke, Que. 

John Milford & Son Reg'd 


Members of the 
Florists' Telegraph Delivery Association 

Telephone LO 2-3757 

143 Frontenac St. Sherbrooke, Que. 




139 Frontenac Street 

Sherbrooke, Que. 

Budnings Drug Store 


Telephone LO 2-4773 


Compliments of 

<0 he f field Oho 



8 Dufferin Ave. Telephone LO 2 




Spalding Golf Clubs 

Bentley Tennis Raquets 

Evenruide Outboard Motors 


Mc Clary Stoves 

Kelvinator Refrigerators 
Sunbeam Toasters 


Wedgewood China 

Royal Doulton Figurines 
Johnson Brothers 





wtLiinGTon n. - sh€«brook€ ,que. 



Compliments of 


C. E. NELSON, General Manager 



Compliments of 




Compliments of 

McLean Kennedy Ltd 






SUITS and 

174 Wellington North ShErbrooke 

Compliments of 

The Montreal and St. John 
Stevedore Co. Limited 

Compliments of 


ggetts Shoe Store 



since 1886 


Telephone LO 7-0545 



Wellington Street North 

Sherbrooke, Que. 

Compliments of 







Office: TErminus 2-2(i34 

Groundwood: TErminus 2-2823 


CO. i.evis, r.Q. 

Compliments of 



C^klnner & ^iadeau z)nc. 


82 Nord, rue Wellington St. North 

Compliments of 


The Most Important 


in the Eastern 









PL 1104 

Compliments of 


Compliments of 

J. B. M. St. Laurent Fi Is, Enrg. 


Compliments of 



Compton, Que. 

Compliments of 








CONTINENT, the Sun Life Assurance 
Company of Canada maintains complete 
branch and agency service from coast to coast 
with an unsurpassed reputation for courtesy, 
promptness and efficiency. 





f th« 

or the 




Newton Construction Company Limited 

5 8 Victoria Street 


General Insurance Broker 





H. B 








Stent iwtic Ol Sxuutffd Aceotucb oh 


MP- 135 



r i| 
John NichoI& Sons, Reg'd 



Wholesale and Retail 


TELEPHONE LOrraine 2-1531 


Compliments of 

Gibb & Company Limited 


1508 Mountain Street 

Geo. W. Pacau 


C. E. PACAUD, Mg. 



M A G CI , Q LI E . 



Compliments of 

Auberge Hillcrest 


Tear-round ^sort 




Telephone: Sherbrooke 

LORRAINE 9-0180 




avarys Store 

C M P T N 


Aii Gourmet 


Le Restaurant le plus en Vogue 

Sherbrooke' s Most Popular 

Biere et Vin — Beer and Wine 
Steaks — Bar-B-Q 

Telephone LO 2-4909 



What precisely is meant by that familiar • 

phrase Freedom of the Press'? • 

"FUNDAMENTALLY it is not a special privilege reserved for 
A newspaper publishers and those responsible for the dissemina- 
tion of news through the media of radio and television. It is rather 
a phase of a much larger freedom — the freedom of all men to speak 
their minds openly and without fear. The press — and this term 
may be modernized to apply to radio and television — claims no 
right which should not belong to every citizen in a democracy, but 
freedom of the press is an all-important part of this larger freedom ; 
because, under modern conditions, the press is the principal agency 
by which the ordinary man receives the information he needs to 
judge the actions of his rulers and make up his mind on public 
issues. Without newspapers, radio and television, or with only 
gagged and blindfolded ones, he is in the dark, and helpless. An 
unfettered press is therefore one of the essential bulwarks of a 
democratic world. 

All liberty, of course, involves obligations. The obligation of a 
free press is to be truly free. It must be thorough, accurate and 
unbiased in its reporting, sincere and thoughtful in its editorial 
comments, and resistant to all outside pressure. It must be both 
cautious and bold — cautious until it knows all tho facts, bold when 
it is sure of its ground. It must, above all, be inspired by devotion 
to the public welfare as its staff understands it. 

Then it is worthy of the privileges which the English-speaking 
peoples have traditionally granted to their press. Then it is also 
the best guardian of the liberties of the people. 



Newspaper Division: Electronics Division: 


a gift for the graduate 

Left: Ridean 17 -jewel movement, 14kt. yellow or white 
gold case, 50.00 

Right: Challenger 17 '-jewel ETERNA-MATIC movement, 
14kt. yellow gold-filled case, 80.00 

A watch is a graduation present that will long be 

remembered and cherished. 

At Birks you can choose from a 

wide range of styles and prices. 














Private wires to Toronto, Quebec, New York 
Telephone MArquette 5621 

507 Place d'Armes Montreal 1, Quebec 










MA 5393 












Compliments of 



















Telephone LO 2-1422 

70 Albert Street Sherkrooke, Que. 

Compliments of 




Donnacona Paper Company 



National Protection 

Assurance Co. 






Montreal Service Through 


710 Victoria Square 



Victor - Decca - Columbia - London 

His Master's Voice 


Sheet Music 

nternational Music Store 


1334 St. Catherine St. West 
Montreal 25 

Compliments of 





/Vleagher Dros. & C 



Established since 1873 




the future . . . 
and you . . 

Though three . . they are one. 

This is a free young land and you are a 
free young citizen. You are free to work, 
free to succeed. You are free to flex your 
muscles, physically and intellectually. You 
are free to use your mind and body to 
succeed both in your own ambition and in 
the building of a greater Canada. 

Being informed is important to your 
career. Information is needed for your 
success plan. Remember, your daily news- 
paper is the modern mirror of this fast 
moving world. It casts light into dark 

3fee @>&%tttt 


The Gazette sponsors the High School All-Star 
Football and Hockey Trophies 



5 7 Place d'Armes 

m o ntreal 


Compliments of 







RATES $8.50 TO $12.00 



A Message from EATON'S 

To All High School Graduates 


• A wide variety of jobs, some in contact with the public 
and many others behind the scenes 

• recognition of merit and unusual opportunities for pro- 
motion to supervisory positions 

• reasonable starting wage rates and opportunities to 
attain a high financial goal 

• well organized training-on-the-job 

• good working conditions including association with con- 
genial colleagues 

• employee benefits, including staff cafeteria, recreational 
facilities and retirement pension 

• keen satisfaction in daily work as a result of providing 
a vital service to the people who are your customers 

You are invited to have a chat with one of 
our Consultants in the Employment Office